


Unlicensed Cemeteries

by R_Quarion



Series: Costal Cacophony [1]
Category: Broadchurch, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alec needs a nap, Alec!Crowley, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Astronomy, Aziraphale as 'Mr A. Z. Fell', Blood and Gore, Crossover, Entomology, F/F, F/M, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Loss, M/M, Murder, Murder Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Season/Series 04, Self-Destruction, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Yes im making that a tag, im looking at you discord, intertextuality, the imperfect human condition and all the complexities that come along with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2020-09-28 13:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20426906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Quarion/pseuds/R_Quarion
Summary: D. I Alec Hardy and D. S. Ellie Miller are known for their crime work in the small coast-side town of Broadchurch. But when the body of a young adult girl is found in ways that baffle even these two detectives, a fresh perspective is needed. Dr. A. Z. Fell and his expertise are called in. Hardy and Miller have to adjust to a new case, a new colleague and all that follows. Most of which they could never have expected. One would even say out-of-this-world.





	1. The Expert From Elsewhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The Tea At The Ritz Discord](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+Tea+At+The+Ritz+Discord).

> Disclaimer: this story will include dark and gruesome themes, much like the show Broadchurch. It also includes religious themes, much like Good Omens. The case includes the themes of real events, perspectives and cases and so does not reflect my personal views of the themes presented in any way, shape or form as I approach them in a manner of fictional perspective. I intend no harm in the writing of this.

**~ ~ ~**

The jogger didn't know why he chose that path that particular day. He often chose routes based on the weather, he allowed the atmosphere to dictate where his feet would land. This day, like many others, was clear and sunny. Such days often lead to the cliff tops of Broadchurch that towered over the coast. Yet there was a cold tinge within the breeze on this one day. It was this particular time of year when the spikiest of bushes were at peak flourish. They found themselves tearing the smallest of abrasions into the joggers skin at his ankles as he ran. Those particular branches seemed to reach out, take his skin, and punish him for walking the path. So this day, which was one of many other days, he chose a different route. 

This route took him up through a clearing where small weeds replaced the grass. They were still green and so he forgave them for their intrusion. He only hoped they hadn't caused too much damage. It was by the time that his legs began to ache with an acidic singe that he slowed down. He just so happened to turn his head at the right moment to see the cottage. It was hidden beneath a dip in a hill, buried away in a valley. The jogger had respect for private property but as he peered through the morning haze he noticed a swing of the door. Hinges rusted to the point of no return and windows covered in grime. The jogger narrowed his eyes. There shouldn't have been a cottage on his route. 

There _ was _a cottage and that cottage beckoned him closer with each creak of the open door. 

It took only a few moments of consideration before he refused the temptation. The air was cold enough to feel like icy pin pricks and the jogger took it as a sign to continue down the route. But he only got so far before the creaking and moaning of the empty house echoed in his head. It was almost as if the cottage was begging for company. The jogger had always been a curious person. Naturally adventurous, hard to scare, resilient in many ways, the jogger _liked_ a challenge. 

He was not too sure if the motivation in his backtracking steps was out of that challenge or out of curiosity. They _ were _motivated though and they took him right up to the stone path that led to the cottage. Invasive vines had grown up and around the frame of the door. Weaving in and out of cracks in the bricks and sprouting the smallest of flower buds that hung limply and shriveled in the sun. The front garden lay unkempt and dead for many months. Panels from the roof lay just out of place and rusted away. Yet the open door seemed to call out for amity. The jogger was a polite man, he didn’t dare refuse.

The last thing the jogger was intending to find was a body. Yet, among the splintering floorboards of a house left unloved, that was exactly what he found.

~ ~ ~  


“Miller, I’m just sayin’-- _ aight, aight, calm down, _ ” Alec paused to open the microwave which was beeping profusely at him, “I’m just sayin’, right, that this lack of trouble is both good and bad. Ya’ know why?”  
“With all do respect, Sir… I don’t _ actually _ remember asking.” Ellie nodded as a thanks for the tea he handed over to her. Not particularly fresh but it was enough caffeine to start the morning. The glare she was met with was enough for her to scoff, “fine, _why_? _ ” _  
“Well… it’s good because it means there’s not much bad happening, ye’? But it’s bad because good God does it make things around here slow . If I have to hear about one more traffic violation---”  
“Hardy, Sir,” a trainee yelled from across the other side of the room, “we have reports of another traffic violation, who should I pass this one onto?”  
“I’m going to pull out my eyeballs, ya hear?” He muttered to Ellie before turning and yelling back, **“anyone who isn’t Miller or I.”**

Things had been slow since Trish’s case. It had been a big shock to anyone who had ever set foot in Broadchurch. Ellie had been disgusted that her son had been friends with Michael and she had insisted that he do double the community service he had been given. Ellie was watching the frustration grow in Alec as every week passed with nothing much more than a speeding ticket or a drunken row. Ellie found the job difficult to settle back into as time passed. Her hardened nature was less forgiving and she felt as if the clock were ticking. It was the natural order of things to go wrong. For every hill that went up, it eventually had to slope back down.  
“Whadre’ we meant to do, install roundabouts every hundred meters? Ya reckon that’d stop ‘em?” He huffed, staring into the tea that he was unnecessarily stirring with the handle of a knife, “mind you, I’d rather deal with a few red light runs then deal with Hastur’s _ ludicrous _ drunken rambling. The end is nigh and all that. I swear, that man is _ on _ something.”  
“For someone who didn’t say a word when you first showed up, you really do have a lot to say.” Alec shot Ellie a harsh glare and a frown. When her phone rang a few moments later, she didn’t expect to hear the words she was met with. 

The hill wasn’t just sloping back down, _no_, this was an avalanche. 

~ ~ ~

Beth awoke to the sound of an alarm followed by a thud and a gasp. The world returned to her in the bright rays of light from the rising sun. Warm in colour but vivid enough to make one squint. Throwing herself upright, alerted by the sudden noise, her eyes darted back and forth. Beth had become used to looking for danger. For expecting the worst. It was exact moments like these when she remembered that things weren’t always of bad intentions. 

“Geoff, you gave me a heart attack!” She chuckled, looking at the man whose shirt was now stained in damp patches. In each of his hands was a cup of tea. Only, now, one was significantly less filled then its companion. Geoff’s expression could only be described as an irritated wince.  
“Ahh I just wanted to bring you tea and that _ bloody alarm _ made me jump.”  
Beth’s eyes gazed over the spots of tea where it had dripped over the bedside table. Pressing her lips into a firm smile, she shook her head and gestured for him to put them down,  
“Well, aren’t you sweet?”  
“Not nearly as sweet as you have your tea, that’s for sure.”  
Beth poked her tongue out as Geoff took a seat at the end of the mattress by her feet. It sunk into his weight, welcoming of his presence.

Beth hadn’t expected to meet Geoff when she did. A few months prior she had been running the route along the coastline. It had been a habit she developed during the start of all things bad. Danny’s case, Danny’s trial, the family problems under her own roof. All things that could be forgotten about, albeit briefly, by running by the beach. This one particular run had been fueled with more anger than the more recent ones that had preceded it. But when Mark had told her, without as much of a frown, that he would be moving out of Broadchurch there was only so much Beth could handle. Her mind had been a few steps behind her feet and she had hit the ground before she had even realised she was falling. 

Most people immediately react when they fall. Beth had laid there in defeat for a few moments too many, soaking up the feeling of harsh grazes that maybe, just maybe, she felt as if she deserved. Before the blood had started trickling from her skin there was someone trying to help her. Things were hazy, they usually are when one’s head hits the floor. But she did remember seeing his face. He was all cheekbones and worried teal eyes. Frowning and blinking quite rapidly, making sure she was okay. Which Beth insisted she was but, after a sudden move, she realised her arm wasn’t _ really _ as okay as she thought. It had been broken in two places. Something she only found out once this stranger had driven her to the hospital and _ insisted _ he stay until she was really, in all its lackluster definition, _ okay _. 

Beth didn’t like hospitals. But every few days was brightened by this stranger who would bring her tea if she wanted and let her know if there was anything worth knowing. Which wasn’t much past _ the weather had taken a turn _ or _ the roadworks along the main road are still progressing slower than the Earth rotates the Sun. _Beth had told Mark to look after Lizzie while she was gone. The texts didn’t detail much and she didn’t pick up many calls. Only for Chole, who had also moved away for the time being. Broadchurch didn’t have much past highschool and Chloe was impatient to learn more then she had. It took a lot of convincing but she moved away, on the condition that her visits would be frequent. Her studies took her down roads that always lead back to Danny. If he couldn’t have justice by the law, Chloe would be damned if she watched it happen to anyone else. 

Beth was very proud of her daughter. Any chance of a typical childhood had been caught in a rip but she was eventually making her way back to shore. Mark’s announcement of moving out to the city Chloe was in had not been what she expected. Beth had called Chloe every night since the move and the hospital didn’t change that. It just so happened that Beth was on the phone when the stranger visited one night. He’d taken a seat and waited with a soft smile for Beth to finish the call.  
“Sorry about that…” his name lingered on the tip of her tongue,  
“Geoff.”  
“Geoff. Yes. Sorry.” She smiled, pulling at a split in her lip.  
“It’s alright Beth, I’ll blame it on the knock to your head.”

Reaching out with her one good arm to the tea he had placed beside her hospital bed, she’d held it close and let the warmth sink into her fingertips.  
“Don’t take this the wrong way but… why are you still visiting me?” Soft spoken with no harm intended, a little smile flashed over his lips.  
“In honesty? I’ve _ never _ seen someone take a fall like that before. You were running with purpose. With anger. I just want to be sure that anger wasn’t going to lead to an early check out of the hospital or something.”  
It was these gestures. These undemanding, kind-hearted and innocent gestures that reminded Beth of good things. From there conversation became natural. Familiar. _ Comforting _.

Beth was checked out of the hospital earlier than expected. She got to the end of the hall before she realized she couldn’t just disappear. She left a piece of paper with her name and number on it. It simply said: _ The hospital checked me out early, not the anger -Beth. _ Geoff had called not to long after. 

“So, what’s the plan for the day?” Geoff said as he shook his hand lightly, droplets of tea misting into the air.  
“Work. I’ll be home before 6. And you?” Beth drew her knees towards her chest to make more room.  
“The same. If the babysitter isn’t busy I’d suggest we go out… _ or _ we could always take Lizzie with us…” Geoff was quite fond of the Lizzie, she reminded him of his own daughter.  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
Beth lent inwards to kiss his cheek softly but she pulled back after a brief second,  
“There’s tea on your cheek. How did you manage that?!”  
“I don’t know, it just--”  
“Oh, what am I going to do with you?” She huffed a laugh and smiled one of the types of smiles where noses scrunch up and eyes glimmer.

What are they called, again? _ Genuine smiles? _

~ ~ ~

_ Ready or Not, _  
_ Summon everything you've got, _  
_ All your forces under the sun, _  
_ Put the call up into the sky, _ _  
_I'll take you one, by one, by one...

Paul watched every road sign pass by counting down the distance until he reached it. Until he reached Broadchurch. He had lost count of the days he had been absent. Breaths needed to be taken and space needed to be secured. In the time he had been away, Paul had found himself again. It was in finding himself that he realised Broadchurch was a big part of who he was. In time he’d decided returning was necessary. So, he found himself driving along an uneven road and letting the radio do all of the talking.

_ Your words are like throwing stones, _  
_ Skipping across my skin, _  
_ Take a warm look at what has gone before, _  
_ There's no way you will ever win, _ _  
_Come on and take me on...

~ ~ ~

The words ‘_ there’s a body’ _had echoed through Alec’s head over and over once Ellie had told him to shut up and listen. Sure, Alec had been complaining about the rate of things but he was, by no means, challenging a greater power to give them another tragedy. Once Alec saw the expression on the jogger’s face, he knew that was exactly what he had been given. Broadchurch was building on its reputation. Alec could list towns that were known for their tragedies. Sandbrook, Snowtown, McCarthy, Luxiol, Hungerford, Port Arthur, Eufaula. Places tainted and stained by death and all the terrible things that an unnatural death can entail. A display of raw human nature. 

“And you’re sure you didn’t see anyone else…?” Ellie asked softly, looking the jogger in the eyes. His complexion had turned sickly grey and there was a tremble in his hands.  
“N-no. I was just on a run. The door was open, it’s a beautiful place, I just wanted to figure out how long it had been abandoned for. I didn’t expect… _ I didn’t expect…” _ His words fell apart into sobs,  
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. It’s good you had a look. Means we can get ahead of this and figure it out. Now, we will need you to make a full statement back at the station. And if you’re affected by anything you saw in there, we have support services for you.”  
The jogger nodded the kind of nod given when things don’t seem _ real _ . Spaced out, out of body, lost and confused. Eyes glazed over with disbelief and a bottom lip quaking with fear.  
“It’s awful. It’s so _ awful _.”

Awful was something Ellie had become much too acquainted with. Awful could be considered a close friend at times. But the kind of close friend who you couldn’t stand. A roommate, maybe, who you wish would just finish their stay. Unsign the rental contract. Awful didn’t scare Ellie anymore. There was no fear in her steps as she and Alec approached the cottage. Overgrown vines unraveling tendrils like little hands outstretching to grasp and pull at her. Tangle in her hair as she passed and snare at her suit jacket. The wooden floorboards creaked and splintered at her step, moulded over in the corner of the rooms with wet rot and little families of silverfish. The wallpaper, which must have been a much nicer shade then the old primrose yellow it was presenting, was peeling and sinking to the floor. The house was empty of anything much beside some rotted chairs and unevenly hanging picture frames that had been spray painted over. Running black ink covered whatever images used to be displaced on those decaying walls. But nothing could prepare the detectives for what they would see when they turned into a room that branched off the corridor. 

Tom had once dropped the large paint bucket when they were painting the upstairs room. The liquid looked much like a bomb had gone off. It had reached even the farthest corners of the room with ease. The cottage room looked much like that only with drying crimson blood. The wall of the doorway was clean of anything, as were the two parallel walls. But from where the body was, it was splashed upwards and rebound back against the floor. The body was a whole issue within itself. From where Ellie and Alec were standing, they could only see the outline of a spine in the shadows and the backs of feet. The body was positioned upright. Kneeling. As the two of them circled, they realised the hands were pressed together. Almost as if she were praying. 

"Do you know her?" Alec asked softly, being careful not to move anything that would cause the body to fall from its place.  
"I can't see her face…" Ellie hissed back, a slight hesitation in her step. Blood swelled over dips in the floorboards and threatened to lap at her shoes. The hair of the girl was hanging by her face and covering any hope of identifying her.  
"What are those…?" Ellie whispered, pointing at some pieces of paper placed around the body in a circle. It was nearly perfectly symmetrical in comparison to the empty liquor bottles scattered in the far corner of the room. 

Alec bent down and peered through his glasses, careful to not disrupt anything.  
" _ Do not spare them, but kill both man and woman, child and infant.. _ ."  
"Well that's certainly grim." Miller frowned, cocking her head and bending down to get a better reading on one of the notes, “ _ You must not eat the blood, pour it on the ground like water. _ Why leave these here?”  
“Justification, of sorts?” Alec shrugged, looking elsewhere, “who knows, Miller… We’ll let forensics handle how to deal with this. I need photos of _ everything _ , you hear?”  
“I hear.”  
“Good. This was undeniably well planned. This is more than just a killing… it’s a statement.”  
“What is it saying?” Ellie asked, hoping maybe it made more sense than Alec then it did to her.  
“That, Miller, is exactly what we are going to find out.”

~ ~ ~

The dramatic take over of The Echo went exactly as Maggie had foretold. The readers of Broadchurch abandoned The Echo within a matter of weeks. There was no personal connection to the paper. And anyone outside of Broadchurch has no interest either. So in a board meeting where Maggie tried her best not to smirk, they resentfully handed it back over to her. 

"I'll be sure to change absolutely _nothing_ from my old system and continue the Echo's success as it left off. Before, you know, all that corporate _bullshit_.” And with a smirk she was no longer trying to hide, she shook their hands and left without saying _good day_. It took a fair few weeks to bring The Echo back into favour with the town. Olly had been dedicated in getting back into it and was almost like a whole new man. Enthusiastic, excited, fulfilled. Jocelyn had described him as a child at a sweet store. With her last case being a success, Jocelyn moved back to Broadchurch. Her heart was with Maggie and her poor timing in the past wasn’t going to lead to anymore poor timings. 

Olly now had a partner in crime. Or, should one say, a partner in _ reporting _ crime. A man by the name of Gabriel who had seemingly showed up out of nowhere and had begun writing pieces that seemed to be undeniable hits. His works were like miracles to the paper and through his overly confident charm, Maggie decided to keep him on. Besides never seeming to eat and some very poor understanding of normal human interactions, he didn’t seem like _ just enough _ trouble to be worried about. Besides, he kept Olly out of Maggie’s hair. Anyone who did that was automatically in her good books.

~ ~ ~

“And if you check online for your modules, you’ll find the extra readings hidden away in a list somewhere. Now, these aren’t essential, they just are for those who are interested in learning more about this week’s topic.” Chloe took note of the words being spoken in misplaced dot points and hurried scribbles, “Next topic is victimology! I’ll see all your chipper-- sorry-- _ sleep deprived _ faces the same time next week. Have a good afternoon.”  
Chloe closed her book and put it into her bag. It was her highschool bag, it was much too costly to buy a new one. Even for University. What she _ did _ need was a new name. 

She hadn’t exactly told her family that her last name _ Latimer _ had been replaced with _ Solano _ . It was different, it didn’t breach anywhere near the realms of her real last name. Chloe wasn’t ashamed to be a Latimer. But there was a part of her that liked the idea of a fresh start. At university she wasn’t the sister of little boy who had been killed in Broadchurch. No one pushed. No one asked.  
“Clo!” She heard a hushed whisper and turned her head to see two of her friends standing by the doorway, “hurry it up! The next class will be in and out by the time you get a move on.”  
Chloe rolled her eyes before slipping her book into her bag,  
“Won’t be a second.”  
She never intended to ever take long. Chloe felt safe with her friends. These ones at least. The ones who know her based on what she wanted them to know. Maybe one day she'd tell someone. But until that day, a strange sense of contentment had begun to settle in.

~ ~ ~

“You’re trying to make me say it.”  
“I am.”  
“You won’t make me say it.”  
“I will.”  
“You are _ impossible _.”

With every sentence Becca was becoming angrier at Nigel. It wasn’t the kind of anger that boiled and overflowed. It was more so annoyance. A papercut, maybe. A splinter that refused to loosen its grasp on the flesh. The past few minutes had been fueled with an endless back and forthing between the two of them.  
“You will say it because you can’t deny it.”  
Becca furrowed her brow and she did it with arrogance.  
“ _ Fine. _ I admit. Business has gotten _ somewhat _ busier since everything happened here.”  
“Exactly! But is that business good business?! Are we now doing work for tourists who are just here to get a little piece of the cursed town of Broadchurch?!”  
“I’d hope not! But. Business is, whatever it is. I’ll take it when I can…”

Nigel huffed and took another swig from his pint.  
“First murder, then sexual assault, now there’s thefts--”  
“Thefts? What thefts?”  
Nigel shrugged, as if it were nothing worth mentioning.  
“Just ‘eard there were some thefts happening. Dunno who.”  
Becca fiddled with the pendant of her necklace nervously. Things certainly had been changing.  
“I only hope to God that nothing more will happen here.”

What Becca didn’t know is that God was playing an ineffable game of her own devising.

~ ~ ~

"Aye, excuse me, what're you doin' in my office?" Alec said the words before he had even properly registered the man sitting by his desk. Ellie bumped into the back of him, not expecting the stop in his step. He hissed back at her.  
"Oh... oh!" The man piped up with a glimmer in his eyes. He took to his feet and straightened out his jacket, "you must be Alec J. Hardy!"  
Alec frowned. As he usually did. It was quite hard to reverse the instinct of frowning in response to most, _ if not all _ , situations. Especially socially. Alec found that a good, solid frown got him out of most awkward questions or lingering gazes. Apparently not this time as it took for the intervention of Ellie to keep the conversation on track.  
"Wait, what does the J stand for?" She screwed up her face, suddenly more interested in the significance of the letter and less so who the stranger was.  
"Uhhh..." Alec threw a glance to Ellie before looking back to the gentleman by his desk, "sorry, who are you?"  
"Do forgive me, I'm Dr. Fell. I was called in, I've been made aware that you are after some expertise." The man held out his hand. 

Alec looked him over. The man, Mr. Fell, was shorter than himself in height. But not by a great measure, simply a mere centimeter or so. He was also more well fed then Hardy which, if one was to admit, wasn't the hardest of challenges. His hair was a shade of blonde that nearly reached snow and wasn't short enough to brush in front of his blue eyes. He was dressed quite similar to Alec; a suit and a trench coat. Only these were light shades of beige and tan. It couldn't be any more polar opposite to the rest of the staff uniform unless it had been neon. Even then Alec had to admit that a little part of him may have preferred lime green over the tartan's shade of fading ochre. Alec eyed the plump, perfectly manicured hand. Slowly, with a grit of his teeth, he shook it. 

The smile that overtook Fell's face was simply divine. Eyes couldn't really twinkle but somehow Fell's blue ones glimmered like the waves off the coast.  
"D. I. Hardy. This is D. S. Miller. You're a bit late here, doctor. Aren't you lot supposed to be of help before the person is dead?"  
Fell pressed his lips together in a much-too-amused smile. Deep down Alec felt a wave of disappointment that he hadn't annoyed the doctor. _ He was much too smiley. _  
"Ah, well, I'm a forensic pathologist hence the title. But I'm also a detective. I'm an expert in ritualistic, satanic and occult killings."  
"A peculiar field to have expertise in, I must say." Ellie gave him a friendly smile before offering her hand. She had to ignore that she and Alec must look like a poor excuse for good cop and bad cop.  
"Oh I don't think so. The forensic ornithologists are very peculiar indeed! Must be incredible to do such a job..."  
Ellie had to admit that she wasn't entirely sure what that specific job entailed. And by the expression on Alec’s face; neither did he.

“So where exactly are you from?” Alec asked Fell whose attention had been entirely captivated by the case board. Bright eyes sweeping across the notes and details. Focusing particularly on the photos that had already been printed of the scene.  
“Elsewhere…” he muttered, clearly not paying any attention to the question,  
“Ah, yes, I’m quite fond of that town.” Ellie raised her eyebrows a little, “do you have a first name, Dr. Fell?”  
“Just Fell is fine… is this the crime scene I’m here for? That garden is simply divine.” Alec and Ellie exchanged an annoyed glance,  
“Must be hyphenated…” Alec growled lowly before piping back up, “Yes, it is, we can go to it soon if you’d like. Forensics is currently on the scene but they know you’re on your way.”  
“It’d be a pleasure if the two of you could accompany me in an hour's time. I have somewhere else to be.” His fingers brushed over the crime scene photos, “after all, I’m not made of eyes, _ am I? _”

Neither Alec nor Ellie really knew what that rhetorical question meant. Neither asked in fear of the answer. All Alec really knew was that meeting had gone down like a lead balloon. 

~ ~ ~

A.Z. Fell had a tradition. With every new place he visited the first proper stop would be the town church. Fell had a strong connection to churches. Or he _ had _. Once. A long time ago. Long enough to feel like quite a few thousand years. But even though he wasn’t a regular attender of Sunday services anymore, he always made a note to visit the church of wherever his feet had placed him. He didn’t need to be a regular to know that church-goers were a community within the community. That he could get a picture of what the townspeople were like, depending on faith. Faith wasn’t a necessity for Fell but he did believe in togetherness. With faith or without. 

Spiderwebs drooped heavily with dust in the far reaches of the church. Little pouts of the tiny fibers dispersed from the floorboards beneath each step he took. It echoed much like a deep cave, bouncing his steps back to him and making him question if he were alone. It was only a mere moment later that he realised he wasn’t alone. By the alter, surrounded by candles, stood a man.  
“Oh I’m truly sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was here.” Fell smiled sweetly as the man turned to face him. He was quite tall in height, dirty brown hair and a frown that was a tad off putting. It quickly diminished into a small smile,  
“It’s alright. Sorry, I just, have we met?”  
Fell shook his head and approached the man, holding his hand out to him.  
“No, I’ve just moved for work. The name is Fell, it’s a pleasure.”  
“Paul.” He shook his hand back, “I used to run this place but I left for a little while. Seems it's fallen into disrepair.”  
“You say disrepair, I say a sign.” Fell shrugged, “it wants you back here.”  
Paul scrunched up his nose briefly, trailing his hand along the backing of a chair that came back with a thin layer of dust.  
“I’d say the community’s faith isn’t as strong as once was.”  
“The Almighty and I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms for a while. But. I do believe in the good of faith. And what I know is that sometimes people look for guidance. Take it as a sign. Faith is the light to drive one through the darkness. Light those candles for others, Paul.” Paul found himself speechless. Well, not entirely. A few syllables stuttered off his lips before Fell spoke up again, “oh goodness, is that the time?! I spent much too long looking at the view- I really must be off.”  
As Fell left the church, Paul watched him go with the utmost confusion. When Paul looked back into the church he swore that maybe, _ just maybe, _everything seemed that much brighter.

_ As if recently touched by a heavenly power. _

_**~ ~ ~**  
_


	2. A Faceless Hurricane Thunderclap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With very little to work with, Alec and Fell try (try being key) to adjust to circumstances.

Fell's eyes wandered the crime scene as if he were a child in a sunflower field. Amazed, captivated, hypnotised... _almost_. Fell liked to think that most, if not all, the choices he had made in his life were the _right_ ones. He didn't like crime scenes. If anything, he despised them. It was his drive to do the right thing that made him the best person for the job. Fell could often see where the right thing _could_ have happened, where the right thing _didn't_ happen. The world around him was filtered into the good and bad. Although he kept in mind that good and bad acts weren't exactly brought about by people being either of those two things. More so by people being, well, _people_. Undeniably, inexcusably and unavoidably doomed to be a plethora of mistakes and mayhem. 

"Who even said we needed his expertise?" Alec asked Ellie in a spiteful whisper, "where did he come from?"  
"No clue. Do you know his name?"   
"Not the foggiest. He's got a face you can't forget though. So _No_, don't know him."  
Ellie had to do a double take on the meaning of the statement, "what does that mean?"  
"Have you looked at him for even half a second?! He _smiles_ when he talks. He's all bloody smiles and nose crinkles and dimples in his bloody cheeks."  
Ellie blinked.   
"Not that you've been paying attention or anything."  
"Shut it. I don't need him here._ We don't_."  
There was a part of Alec that had, over time, grown to be quite protective of Broadchurch. And in that time, he'd come to respect Ellie as not just a co-worker but also as a friend. Alec didn't like change. Never had. The new gentleman on the case gave him a _different _feeling that wasn't exactly _bad_ in nature. Not for any reason other than he was new. And maybe because his tone always seemed to be impeccably chipper and the glimmer in his eyes didn't fade. Even now. While he stared at what had been the final resting place of a girl who would never have the chance at growing up.  
"What an awful thing to put on the innocents with faith…" Fell whispered,  
"There's not many 'ere with faith anymore." Alec grumbled, frown seeming to be set in stone. "In fact, the church probably hasn't been touched in a while."  
"Quite the contrary actually, I was there last night. Met a handsome young chap… blonde hair, very nice smile, was a tad nervous…"  
"Oh my god, Paul's back in town?" Ellie exclaimed, "since when?"  
"Not too sure I'm afraid, we didn't talk much."  
"Then he's a suspect, Miller." Alec glared at her,   
"On what grounds?"  
"The most religious name in the town just so happens to return around the same time that there's a religious killing?" 

She looked as if she were to talk but her mouth shut not too long after. Guilt flared in Fell's stomach; he knew there was much more to Paul than what he knew. His attention turned back to the scene.   
"Well, allow me to just cover what we know- that this is undeniably ritualistic, _obviously _satanic. There's little chance this was a first kill. If it was, then, whoever did it has been planning this for a while."   
Ellie frowned, hating the uncertain feeling that was once again rising in her chest. A criminal in the midst of Broadchurch once more.  
“Obviously?” Alec echoed; tone still spiteful.  
“The blood placement was intentional. They must have, somehow, collected the blood and thrown it against the floor and wall like this. Draining a body of blood is quite an indication but, I’ll have to see the body just to match a few things up. As for the passages, I’ll have to study those further too. But this one here, ‘_we belong to him, not to ourselves_’ was said by, if my memory serves me, a Ms Atkins. She was involved in ritualistic killing. The motive here is complex, I fear we haven’t even scratched the surface…”   
Alec nor Ellie let the chirping of birds or the rustle of leaves interject a single syllable of Fell’s.  
“You almost seem to be enjoying this…” Alec suggested, watching the man carefully for his reaction. Ellie’s heart sunk a little at the offense that flooded over Fell’s expression.   
“How could you even insinuate such a thing?! A life has been lost. I, quite frankly, cannot stand crime scenes. Not only is the suggestion wildly inappropriate but it’s also unbelievably offensive. I hope you’re ashamed.” 

The fluster on Fell’s face was covered over in a flush of red anger. Ellie had nearly jumped at the way his tone sharpened but she felt guilty watching how he fiddled with his hands in anxious anger. Almost as if he were too polite to be honest but too offended to keep his mouth shut. A silence grew in the room until Fell coughed, brushed down his impeccable suit and looked to Ellie with a friendly half-smile.  
“I’ve seen everything I must. I shall meet you back at the station.”   
It was without not another word that Fell muttered angrily at Alec as he passed,   
“If you could find your dignity wherever among these floorboards that you’ve dropped it, I’d greatly appreciate it.”  
Alec’s mouth nearly fell open in surprise. Luckily, he had a jaw clenched together as if with glue. Grinding his teeth had to be settled for. Ellie could only turn to Alec and congratulate him on being such a fantastic host.

~ ~ ~

"Knock knock." Gabriel didn't actually knock at the door of the Echo. Nor had he paused to wait for an invite. Instead he had just said the phrase while entering the building and walking towards the table where Olly and Maggie sat. Hunched over, furiously highlighting.   
"Ah, youngin', you return. With _news_, I assume?"  
Gabriel paused, Maggie's little play on words not sinking in entirely. Or even a little.   
"What's happening?!" Olly asked with an excited grin. Gabriel always bought the most exciting stories to the table. It was almost as if he were a miracle worker for The Echo. Although sometimes he got ahead of himself. Once during a conversation about sushi, he had tried to convince them that sullying their bodies was an act of indescribably bad proportions. And when Olly had laughed and commented that he must hate sushi- Gabriel had just frowned and said that the dislike wasn't explicit to that. Maggie has just raised her eyebrows and eaten her crumpet with a bit more spite. 

Maggie was tough but she liked Gabriel. _Well_, she didn't mind Gabriel. _Well_, she tolerated him. _Barely_. And that sometimes was too nice. All Maggie knew was that she wouldn't trade her life for the world. Why? Well, she had the world. She had Jocelyn, she had the Echo, she had Olly and his dastardly ways. It was much nicer seeing Olly back in Broadchurch. His other job with the big papers was what he was perfect for. Turned out that it wasn't perfect for him. He missed the community sense of the Echo. He missed everything about being a journalist in a small coastal town. Somehow, he had met Gabriel in the city and convinced him to move to the coast with him.

"Well. A little birdy told me that there's evil around. A murder, maybe. Not too far away from here."   
There was a general consensus of shock. Maggie had reared her head back and nearly snapped her highlighter.   
"Oh god… who told you that?"  
Gabriel frowned.   
"A bird. Small in size. I just said that."  
"Very funny." Olly shook his head with a smile, "good use of phrase, if you were a bird watcher, ya know. You’ve still got some kick left in ya before you turn to that, aye?"  
Gabriel turned his head to Maggie,  
"That's a used phrase?" 

Maggie narrowed her eyes and put a mental coin in her mental swear jar as she thought _what in the fuck?_

~ ~ ~

“You’re telling us that we don’t know who she is?!”   
Fell did meet both Ellie and Alec back at the station. He looked much calmer, despite a look of knives shot at Alec’s direction, and Ellie noticed that Fell’s platinum hair has since fallen somewhat out of place. She guessed he had gone to the beach to breath in the smell of the salt and listen to the crash of the waves. Unless he feared those things. Then her next best guess was that he had been caught in a bush- but that wasn’t the pressing matter at hand.  
“We don’t, no.” Brian repeated himself, being sure that Alec heard the annoyance of having to repeat the statement, “DNA doesn’t match any on our database. Neither does dental. Nor fingerprints. There was no ID on her or on the scene.”  
“Missing persons?” Alec was grasping at straws,  
“Nothing yet. It’s still being looked into.”

It was hard not to look at the body on the table. Most of the doctors had stepped out as Alec and Ellie had arrived.   
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.” Fell smiled and offered his hand, “I’m Dr. Fell.”  
Brian looked almost taken aback by the approach,  
“SOCO Brian Young. I’m not the pathologist, just here to be sure the evidence is being taken properly. Not that there was much here… she was only in her undergarments...”  
As if being forced, everyone’s eyes moved back to the body.   
“The gesture is important, Mr. Young.” Alec wondered if Fell’s face was frozen into that smile, “wouldn’t want a repeat of The Phantom of Heilbronn now, would we?”  
Brian huffed a laugh. Whatever the exchange was, it seemed to go right over both Ellie and Alec’s heads.  
“Guess not.” 

Ellie thought that if she could pay more attention to the bubbly nonsense that Fell was talking then she could pay less attention to the way that puncture wounds indented into the girl’s skin. They covered her as if they were leaf spots on average houseplants. Dispersed across her stomach and up across her chest, not straying much further onto her limbs. Although she could spot severs at every junction on the girl’s body. Wrists, elbows, shoulders, thighs, knees, ankles, her throat was the most obvious.   
“There’s very little pooling…” Fell whispered to himself,  
“Pardon?”  
“My apologies. Not my job, not now at least.” There was a lot of consideration happened behind those eyes. Alec could only guess. Alec’s guesses didn’t come within a five-thousand-mile radius. 

Fell’s introduction to the station later that day was briefly made by Ellie and even briefer by Alec. There was a good applause as Fell stuttered an unprepared speech,  
“I’m very grateful to be here, working with this station. I hope we can make some miracles happen."

It just so happened that Alec didn't believe in miracles.

~ ~ ~

Flies were meant to have a lifespan of twenty-eight days. The fly that hung around this one particular bar must have been alive that long but to the power of three. _In years_. Come Hell Or High Water was a bar just off the corner of the beach and it's owner, previous dipterologist, had never even tried to rid of the small insect. Never was there a moment where flies were not present. Something had to feed the frogs, after all. It was a strange bar, the newcomer had to admit. Dark, gloomy, but it felt like the _right_ atmosphere. With tanks of all sorts of amphibians lining the walls and a dog chained as a stand-in bouncer. Most customers had slumped shoulders and drooped heads.   
“Erik,” he raised his glass, “and I have the company of?”  
“Beelzebub, _Lord_.” Zir expression remained frowning, unaltered, even as the fly landed nearby. Ze was the bar tender, “I own this place.”  
“Ligur.” The co-worker beside zir nodded, a slightly warmer look in his orange eyes. Not a pleasant warm, mind you. The kind of warm you _didn’t_ want your coffee to be. Lukewarm. “This is Hastur.”   
There wasn’t even a word from Hastur, just a raise of his glass and the most dull-eyed stare.  
“Sod this for a lark.” He suddenly barked, scratching his head and rubbing at his eyes, “why do we care?”  
“You have no reason to care.”

In fact, Erik Tennyson was much too interested in what could be hiding in the depths of the ocean to care for much else. Especially, _especially_ for his job as a substitute art teacher.   
Substitute seemed to stand for:   
S- seriously   
U- underwhelming/   
B- bullshit   
S- students   
T- trying   
I- incredibly   
T- hard   
U- to ruin his   
T-  
E- entire life  
There was a reason, after all, that he wasn’t an English teacher. There was very little about his job that enthralled him. Or even raised a single ounce of care. One student, maybe, Greasy Johnson. After all, he had won a prize for his tropical fish. It was once a colleague of his, grounds manager Mary Loquacious, had told him that Johnson was a gang leader that Erik had reconsidered. Told, chatted his ear off, the same thing. But he had found out that The Johnsonites were relentless bullies. Erik had decided that maybe he had less appreciation for the tropical fish.   
“Business is a reason enough.” The bartender slid Erik another drink. Just as potent and dark as the first. A dark red lolly snake handing over the glass rim. The fly landed by Erik’s hand and after a second of hesitation, he slapped at the table.   
“Got you, bastard.” He whispered before Beelzebub frowned.  
“Think again.” Ze hissed, tilting zir head as the fly miraculously crawled out of his grasp and flew away.  
“Must have known that fly in their past life, probably was a bastard of a character.” Hastur mumbled, “must have been, he’s in Hell now.”

Erik frowned a tad, looking around at the bar. He thought it couldn’t get much peculiar. That was until his eyes fell onto the sign that asked customers _please_ don’t lick the walls.

~ ~ ~

There was something about the way the doors in this one particular corridor had attitudes of black and white. Either they were open to entering or exiting. Mind you, exiting seemed to be the preference for most of those who wandered through it. Entering was much more of a drag. Took will power. Strength, determination, as well as the crippling fear that just maybe this class would be an important one and that skipping it for a smoke would get one into more trouble than it would be worth. Which was tricky. Smoking wasn't worth all that much to begin with. At least not for those trying to impress other students. 

Peer pressure. The bane of a high schooler. 

Or, these particular doors were closed shut. Shut and stubborn to opening. A containment, of sorts. A concealment, of sorts. Daisy casted her head back over her shoulder. She often expected to see Chloe standing by the corner of the lockers. Maybe lingering by said open doors, giving Daisy that extra strength to brave the classroom. Daisy missed Chloe but graduating was graduating, and she was happy Chloe had found her place outside of Broadchurch. 

But as life changes, new people are met. Daisy found herself in a new group of friends. There were four of them total. Well, five, there was a straggler who didn't seem to know exactly where he fit. It would be easier if he wasn't intentionally difficult company, however. There was Pepper, who Daisy had first met during a health class. The teacher had said something about unequal pay between men and women, Pepper had a few things to say in response and she made damn well that she said them. And so, Daisy found herself taking a liking to Pepper. It was then that she was introduced to the rest of the group. There was Brian, who had snapped a pen while saying hello. Ink spilled everywhere, yet, no one seemed to care enough to clean it up. Strangely the stain had seemingly vanished. There was Wensleydale whose name wasn't that, but he would only respond to it. Adam Young's name had run a bell. He was both a model student and not a model student. Depending on the day, depending on the teacher. Sure, he got good grades, but he was a troublemaker. Especially around the librarian, Anathema. The two of them were on the same wavelength. Then there was Warlock. Who appeared and disappeared as he so pleased? He wasn't exactly friendly, but he could be tolerable. _Sometimes_. 

Daisy couldn't help but think just how much Chloe would have liked the group. Maybe she would visit one day, hopefully. But for now, things dragged on at their usual speed. Daisy's eyes watching the windows at the outside world. _Strange_, she thought, as she noticed police cars pulling into the car park.

~ ~ ~

During the few hours that followed, subjectivity festered amongst the clouds that hid the sun. Alec was relentless in his _we-don't-need-this-southern-pansy_ mindset and Ellie watched on as he let things pass out of what had to be unconscious spite. But they had an identification and that was more than nothing. 

"Aight, you lot, gather 'round, gather 'round." Alec yelled towards the general direction of workers. Including Fell who was already sitting patiently nearby. Left leg folded over the other, hands clasped, soft smile on his face. But only for Ellie. Once he looked at Alec, it dulled somewhat. Once the scraping and groaning of chairs stopped, Alec began to talk again. 

"We have an ID. Phoebe Antre. Seventeen. Student at a local high school. International student, however. Chose Broadchurch for its cliffs, we believe. She wanted to be a geology major and transferred here for experience in her coastline programs. At least that's what her transfer papers say, she's been identified by the school principal and numerous teachers. Since she had very few friends here and absolutely no family at all."

Notes were being scribbled quite furiously between officers. Ellie picked up the presentation once Alec has taken a pause.   
"We are getting in touch with the family as soon as we can. They have the voicemails to match their IDs, but they aren't answering. We are hoping for dental records, just to be sure. Maybe fingerprints. As far as we can tell, her record is clean. She doesn't seem to have been wound up in any trouble."  
_At least, until now_. Ellie had to resist the urge to say it.   
"Keep this quiet for the meantime. It's been a few years since Danny, we fear this shock might cause some difficulties. We have to find who did this."

~ ~ ~

Beth was learning to like the feeling of the coastal winds in her hair. _Like_ was probably a word which was much too nice to use. _Tolerate_ worked better. The word _enjoy_ didn't even come within miles of her consideration. She had been able to push past how Danny's body on the beach made her insides tie and twist until she couldn't breathe. Barely. But after Mark's attempt at his own life by the water, Beth was unable to hold back the tide of fear that washed over her whenever she smelt salt in the air. It was Geoff who was trying to change that, slowly, and only at Beth's comfortable pace. He deemed that years, even forever, would be fine. 

Geoff was carrying Liz in his arms. Between the two of them were muttered syllables of nonsensical language. A smile mirrored between them. Geoff didn't fix what happened in the past, it just made it easier for Beth to not define her future by it. With Geoff there was something else, something new. He loved Liz as if she were his own daughter. Part of Beth felt saddened by that, as much as she wanted him to feel at home. He did have his own daughter- he just didn't see her often. 

Within a messy divorce Geoff had lost his wife and child to his ex-best friend. He claimed never to know it was happening. Only made aware once he visited his friend in seek of company, just to find that his wife had done the same. But her company sought was much more intimate. Geoff didn't have the ability to take it to court, fighting for child custody slipped from his grasp. As did his daughter. She went to school in Broadchurch, she was in her final year. Geoff knew that he wouldn't make it to her graduation when it came to pass. 

Beth snapped out of her mindless stare into the lapping waves by a cheery laugh. Geoff rocked Liz back and forth in his arms as she pointed at gulls soaring by the coast. She smiled to herself. That smile quickly disappeared once they got back on the main street. In passing Olly and a friend of his, Beth heard words she wished never to hear again. 

"There's been a murder."

~ ~ ~

Fell had found himself looking over the young girl’s diary. Apparently, it had not taken much time to work out who she was by the school reports. She was young enough to be in the final year of school. A quick check of the no-shows, a few rings to the parents of those on the list, and then there was very few left to eliminate. 

“First, I’ll wanna map it... know the typography…   
What types of rocks are there?   
Jurassic Coast, several geological faults, look for planar fractures.   
Significant displacement?”

“Oh!” There was a gasp followed by a shatter. Fell nearly jumped out of his skin as glass scattered on the floor by his feet. Hand over his heart, he tried to calm the racing.  
“Good lord!” He exclaimed, looking up to the man in the doorway.  
“I am _so sorry!”_ The tall, dark haired gentleman looked undeniably scared. A little twitch in his eyes, heaving chest.  
“No, no, it’s alright.”  
“It’s just that no one is usually here at this time… I wasn’t expecting another person, you see. You gave me a scare. I-I’m sorry! Did I interrupt your work?”  
“I assure you that it is tickety-boo, do not insist apology kind Sir. I’m Dr. Fell, called in for this case.” He held his hand out. It was quickly taken with awkward hesitation,  
“Newt. Newton Pulsifer. I work with IT here.” What Newt didn’t mention was that he had acquired the job because the previous worker’s contract had been terminated once he was involved in a case. Something along the lines of reluctant psychic incidents. “Just here to change some bulbs.”  
The technician left the room not too long after. Fell did his best to read the next paragraph of the photocopied diary. Although, strangely, the light that had just been fixed was seeming to flicker and die out above him.  
  
“Notes of east-west trending dip-slip faults were noted-   
however they have since been identified as…   
southward inclined thrusts- that was further down the coastline.   
References to D. Nowell- paper on structures affecting the coast.   
… oh, to _hell_ with notes for now- it will be fascinating to see in person!”

Fell _loved_ storms. The way that light seemed to burst through the darkness, reach every corner, just to make itself known. A quick reminder that things were soon to be illuminated. But when he had read those words- the excitement of a young girl now lay in autopsy- Fell felt the full force of her death as if it were the heaviest of storms. There was a term for this kind of death if she had any connection to whomever had committed such an act. 

Fell was worried that they may be investigating a hurricane thunderclap. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o k a y s o  
I'm loving writing this  
That's all i got :)
> 
> a lot of book references, sorry for those who it doesnt make much sense to!


	3. Take Two on a Tartan Rug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With leads slowly forming and the strangest of connections being made, a case is being formed.

~ ~ ~

It was in times like these when Alec's job left a burning in his heart. Acid reflux paired with the feeling of harsh substance creeping around in his veins. It wasn't guilt  _ per say. _ It was a feeling of burden. The camera crews didn't help ease that burden either. Alec stared into the soulless reflection of the dark glass lens.  
"Within the early hours of Monday just passed, a body was found in the Pymore area. The body has been identified as student Phoebe Antre. We are treating it as foul play and ask anyone who knows anything to please step forward. There will be no rest until this is solved."

Behind the camera, Ellie flashed him a pained smile. Since surgery, Alec hadn't looked nearly as tired. But he still looked worn down. At least he did now, two days after a body had been found. Cases like these was always tricky. Little leads, no family locally, very little connection to anyone or anything. Even in a small town like Broadchurch. It was once the camera crew had cut recording and thanked Alec for his time that Ellie got him alone.    
"Well spoken, Sir." She handed him his tea. "What now?"   
He nodded and half yawned, taking a swig of his coffee and shaking his head.    
"Now we… ah  _ God  _ Miller, I keep thinking about Beth. She's just finding her bloody footin' and now,  _ this _ ."    
"Aunty Ellie! Aunty Ellie!" A voice from the crowd caught both of their attention.    
"Oh Christ." Ellie closed her eyes in defeat.    
"Is that…?"   
Olly pushed his way through the crowd, microphone in hand and glimmer in his eyes. "Oh for fucks sake, lass." Alec groaned in defeat.    
"What do you know about Phoebe?!" He was bustling with energy.    
"Are you kidding me, Olly?! You disappear from town with a big job opportunity and return when there's a murder?! Oh hell, why am I even surprised."    
The dissipating crowd left few people wandering. From behind Olly approached a man neither Ellie nor Alec knew. Although Alec felt a wave of deja vu. 

"Olly. I see you're, oh what's that phrase,  _ mingling… _ " the awfully refined gentlemen commented as he straightened his light suit jacket. Ellie swore she saw some purple in his eyes.    
"I'm sorry, you are?" Alec asked harshly.    
"Ah this is Gabriel, Gabriel this is Alec and Ellie.”   
"Hardy." Alec corrected.    
"Miller." Ellie followed up.    
"Well, this is a meeting. I have now met you. Consider formalities done with."   
Ellie and Alec blinked in confused annoyance. The newcomers eyes had quickly began to wander elsewhere. Blue, Alec thought, because he swore purple was unnatural.   
"And I thought you were bad, Sir." Ellie hissed under her breath before turning to smile the kind of smile that was undeniably fake. Intentionally so. "Olly, who is this?"   
"Gabriel and I met during my first few weeks. We both wanted out, I suggested he come back here with me. He's fantastic at articles, just ask Maggie."   
Alec couldn't shake the feeling that he knew the stranger. But bells continued not to ring. 

“Aunty Ellie, what do you know about Phoebe? She was a model student, right? International nonetheless?” Olly had a way of snapping into reporter-mode in a manner of milliseconds.    
“Olly this is seriously unprof---”   
“I didn’t say she was international.” Alec’s thoughts were suddenly in the air. The conversation froze over.   
“Pardon?” Olly’s smile was relentless. The fear in his eyes told a different story. One of worries.   
“I did not disclose that Phoebe was an international student.” Solem and stone cold, all eyes fell on Olly,   
“Didn’t you?” He huffed a laugh,   
“I did not.” That glare could kill. “Care to explain?”   
“Must have just heard it from elsewhere.” Olly’s eyes slowly made contact with Ellie’s. There was a flash of guilt in her nephew’s glance. She cocked her head, fearful pulsing echoing her chest. Olly’s mouth opened to say something further but Alec’s glare halted his tongue. Placing a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, he gave an awkward smile, “It’s about time we go, yeah?”   
Olly did not look over his shoulder as he left. Gabriel was left somewhat shellshocked.    
“Nice to meet you, Gabriel.”    
“Yes. I met you also. Regards.”

Ellie and Alec watched them leave, both with inevitable suspicion. 

~ ~ ~

"Main suspects!" Alec had some odd ways of starting work debriefings, Fell thought as the D. I. rapidly tapped his finger over and over on the whiteboard. "Wh… uhh… well, look. We don't have anyone as of  _ yet _ . The jogger has made his statement and everything seems to check out. We will put people on it further, however. The statement is out, it’s only time before the papers start their relentless babbling. Do  _ not _ be someone who says something mindless enough to give us a bad rep...” He flicked through his papers mindlessly before mumbling, “Olly and Gabriel will leech the damn story.”   
Fell’s heart flared but he bit his tongue.    
“We have scheduled interviews this morning so you know where to find us if you need.” Ellie concluded with a final clap. As if the contact of her palms controlled all those before her, they went back to work. 

Fell slowly approached the lead detectives who were, for lack of a better term, squabbling.   
“Sorry. Did I mishear? Or did you say Gabriel?”   
“You ‘eard correct. New Echo reporter. Mean anything to you?”   
“Oh gosh...” Fell gaped, cheeks fading into a rosey red. He fell briefly silent.  
“Gabriel is a fan of harshly written pieces. He is why I am on the move so often. I warn you, he is a... _ foul fiend. _ ”  
"I'd just call him a knob. Short. Simple. Accurate." Alec frowned.   
"Colossal wanker also does the trick." Ellie raised her tea mug. “Doesn’t matter. At hand we have… a friend of Phoebe’s coming in for an interview. Fell, is your work on the crime scene notes done?”   
“Uh, shortly. Yes. They’re... relentlessly complex.”   
“We plan on it.” Alec pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and looked in Fell’s direction. The exchange of concern was of no help to either of their morals.

Moral in the workplace was not up to its usual upbeat banter. Incidents like the case of Phoebe, reality hit everyone. It was as if winter was settling in and sending chills down everyone’s spines. Cold enough to match the heart of whoever committed the act in the first place. The cold did not shift when Phoebe’s friend arrived at the station. She was average in height and yet, her posture shortened her. It may have been the weight of the circumstances on her shoulder, it may just have been her posture. Alec hoped for the latter but expected otherwise. She was tired, that much was obvious. Red, bloodshot eyes, bags of a purple hue, sickly complexion. But a smile was relentless. 

“And who are you?”  
The young girl took a deep breath. Her hands shook, her fingers twitched, there was a jump in her breathing, eye contact was yet to be made. Alec and Ellie had settled her in front of the camera. With a glass of water and two detectives, the following hours would be ones of honesty.   
“Leona…”   
Alec frowned a little more in frustration,  
“Please state your full name for the camera…” Ellie gave a sweet smile. She was good at that. The young girl readjusted her seating.   
“My name is Leona Hadal.”  
"And why are you here Leona…?" Ellie was the more soft spoken of the two of them. The tone made Leona look a little more at ease. She was nervous, it was obvious, Alec had already taken note of that trait. Sickly tint of skin, trembling hands, a chest that's breathing couldn't seem to stable.   
"I'm here because I'm good friends with Ebby-- sorry-- Phoebe. We call her Ebby."  
"Who is _'we'_?" Alec asked in soft curiosity.   
"The Them and I. They're a group of friends at school. Four of them, Ebby and I know-- knew-- them quite well."   
"Will you be able to give us their details after this?"  
"Y-yes." Leona frowned, "sorry I-- I just get confused sometimes. Just need to remember this is not to blame, it's to rule out. At least that's what Adam told me. And he's always right."  
"Well, Adam is right… who is Adam?"  
"He leads the Them. Him and Pepper and Brian and Wensleydale. Ebby was fond of them- even though she was my best friend, they might know more than me…"  
Ellie took careful note. Although she was surprised at the sudden change in conversation. 

"Okay, Leona, let's go back to why you're here…"   
She took another shaky breath. Ellie wished she had not have seen it. That racking of lungs, desperate and fearful.    
"We have this librarian, at school, she's kinda… strange. Talks about witches a lot. And rituals. I'm not sure of the word… she says she is, oh what is it, occa-- ohc--"   
"Occult?"   
"Yeah. That's it. She is nice, she is just a bit…” Leona did not find the right word to describe. Bottom lip between her teeth, she seemed much too troubled at her shortcomings.   
“Was there much else and Phoebe you could tell us?” Ellie promoted, watching the young girl’s frown of frustration turn to one of recalling memory.   
“I mean, we did not hang out with many people besides the Them. She had a job, not sure where.” Alec’s eyebrows raised at that particular comment, things were beginning to not match up. Leona spoke of things they already knew and gave some further information about the family. She said that Phoebe rarely spoke to them and that when she did, it was never consistent. Besides that, they wrapped up with enough to make some more inquiries.

There was some eyes on Leona as she made her way through the desks of the station towards the exit. Someone so young should never have to be exposed to such a tragedy. Part of Ellie ached for the damage it would leave. Trauma manifested itself in many ways. Ellie could only hope that Leona found herself in the care of people who would support her. Leona froze by the door. There was an uncontrolled twitch in her shoulders. Hands clasped in fists. Then came the shudders and the dip of her head. The sound of soft sobs from a young person being forced to mature by the unthinkable. A catalyst of fatal odds. Soul sucking, world altering. 

No one moved towards her. Even with her nails digging desperately for grip into the door frame. The sight of it hurt everyone a little too much. That was until Fell pushed through the officers with quiet '_pardon me_'s. He reached the teenager with the most calming expression.   
"Leona, right? Hi. I'm…" he paused in thought, "I'm Aziraphale… in working on Phoebe's case, if you need anything?"  
Ellie and Alec exchanged a few hissed words about Fell's sudden first name revelation.   
"I- I just…" the sobs dragged on, "she's my best friend. What do I… how… no, _who_? Who am I without her…?"  
Fell tucked away one of her strands of hair that had fallen loose.   
"You, Leona, are here helping. Doing what's tough, in the honour of your friend. And that's, that's brave. Who you are? You're a good person, who is suffering a terrible loss. But you're here helping. And Phoebe would be proud of that."  
Rubbing her bloodshot eyes, Leona took a minute to consider it.   
_"Do you think she's safe now?"___  
"I know she's safe now. God will take good care of Phoebe. But here and now, we have to do the difficult job. And you're already on it.'  
"I'll... I'll let you know if I remember anything."  
"Okay, now…" Fell pulled a tissue from the top of the adjacent desk and handed it to her, "do me a favour? Put your hand on your stomach, breathe in for five seconds, hold for five, breathe out for five… be sure to breathe through your stomach, not your chest… there you go, you are doing wonderfully.”  
It was something unusual to watch. Not because of any other reason besides the genuine care in Fell’s tone. Yet he did not break that smile. People needed anchors to hold them to the Earth. Fell seemed to be just that.

~ ~ ~

Alec and Ellie had to do their utmost to avoid their own children when walking through the school grounds. There was danger in personal connections and neither detectives were going to worry their children any further. Although both were wondering just how this Ms. Device had found her way into the job as a librarian. She didn't have an office, per say. It could almost fit a single bed. As long as you didn't need to walk around the bed, that was. A small desk cornered the room. Papers and books. Scattered, opened. A candle flickered by the far left corner. It was almost a miracle the papers hadn't caught fire. 

"Hello, Anathema, is it?" Ellie grinned, an eye on the table behind the librarian. It was difficult to see the piles on the floor behind her thick, long skirt. Checkered patterns, Alex noted, and then his knowledge and care for fashion ended there.   
"Anathema Device." She held her hand out quite pointedly. She was formal but cold.    
"D. I. Hardy, this is D. S. Miller.",    
"Is this about something Adam did? I told that boy to stop stealing apples from the neighbourhood. Now it's here to bite him in the ass, huh?" Anathema's words seemed to block the words that were to follow. She stuttered and stumbled over a number of them. Talking with a flinchy paranoia that Alec took note of.    
"No, no… are you referring to Adam Young?" Anathema nodded to Ellie's question. A repeat of a name- that was interesting. Surley. Ellie had to push back the thought that maybe a student had been involved.    
"No, we are here on the word of another student. Came to us, to report your involvement in…"   
"It's  _ not  _ witchcraft."   
"We weren't going to say witchcraft. More so… occultist, going ons. Is this right?"    
"Of sorts. It's a family tradition. What does it matter to you?"   
"Where were you this past Sunday evening?"   
"I was writing notes about my charts.  _ Oh. _ .. this is about that girl, isn't it?"   
"What do you mean by, charts? What were you charting?"    
"Surely you know?” She blinked with disbelief, “the moon?"   
"Is a bloody big celestial body, what about it?" Alec’s patience was running thin.   
"The date. May 18, 2019. At 10:11 Saturday night, a blue moon occured... I swear. The Chattering Order leaves town, something a little more than scientific happens, then I'm the first turn for blame.” 

Overwhelming was a word that described too many things happening at once. What Ellie and Alec were experiencing was the phenomenon of being overwhelmed but with the added touch of not understanding a single sentence that was being said.    
“Chattering what?”   
“And you two are police?” Anathema scoffed, “never heard of the Chattering Order… I didn’t think it was  _ possible _ to not have heard of them. Or  _ from  _ them. Satanic nuns have this beautiful ability to not stop talking.”   
Star struck silence occurred despite the absence of any stars. Alec thought about how to make this as coherent as possible.   
“Can you come to the police station, at some point, and give some information about the occultist goings on? Make a statement, clear your name, help us out?”   
Anathema looked between the two of them. Her eyes tracing them as if trying to size them up.   
“Ok. If I must. Now, excuse me, Adam owes me a book back and I will be damned if he is photocopying them for posters  _ again _ .”

Ellie and Alec had no reason to stay for even a second longer. If anything, the opposite.   
“Miller?”   
“Yes, Sir?” She held the door for him,   
“I need a fucking Nurofen, ASAP.”   
“Can’t be of help. Only thing I’ve got on me is some tissues.”   
“Ah they’ll come in handy when I pull my eyeballs out.”   
“Unlikely, Sir.” But Ellie passed them to him anyway.

~ ~ ~

Adam Young had a personality that both Ellie and Alec couldn't quite pinpoint. He was compliant yet difficult. Optimistic yet pessimistic. Objective yet subjective. He was everything at once. Ellie was not sure how the conversation had stated with Phoebe and turned to nuclear power plants, then to ley lines, somehow diverting to underground tunnels eavesdropping always, taking a brief moment to mention an end to the world. Adam, whoever he really was, had been listening to Anathema too much. It just so happened that Adam's interview was still taking pointless turns when the police chief interrupted.    
"Chief Uriel." Alec nodded.    
"Who is this?" She turned to Adam. She was a very rare case of unnatural eye colour. Her skin was the most flawless dark complexion and her eyes shone like gold.    
"Running checks." Alec didn't offer anything more than that. He kept her gaze and the most serious of expressions.    
"This here is Adam Young. He knew Phoebe, he's here with some ideas." Ellie chimed in, breaking the awkward silent stare off between the two of them.    
"Thank you, Miller. For making things easier. It's a nightmare getting anything out of Hardy." She spoke about him as if he weren't there. Uriel cast a look at Adam briefly. No words were spoken, the conversation had ventured no further then when it had been interrupted. The look must have stirred something in Adam. Unprompted, he spoke to no one.    
"You are looking in the wrong place."   
Uriel and Alec both narrowed their eyes but Ellie tilted her head.    
"What was that?"   
"You're looking in the wrong place. There's wool over your eyes. Check for wings. They'll give you an idea.'

~ ~ ~

"Now, on a very relevant note, it may be of interest to you to do some further readings on the issue that stigma places on small towns that suffer the consequences of crime. One of the most interesting that comes to mind is Australia's Snowtown. Six bodies found melted in barrels… now most of the town wanted a renaming to Rosetown whereas one shop in the town deemed it appropriate that they sell merchandise based on the killings!"

Chloe scribbled at her note book, placing underlines of disbelief below the words. Checking her watch, she watched the minute tick over. There were only three minutes left of the hour-long lecture. The watch had been an eighteenth birthday present from Beth. An Avenue Rosé watch with a pastel pink leather strap and rose gold dials. It rarely left her wrist. 

"More recently, police have released a statement about a murder in Pymore. Might not ring any bells… until I remind you that it's a ten minute drive from central Broadchurch. A town that suffered great losses not too many years ago."

The world froze. Or at least to Chloe it did. Soon it would implode and swallow her whole. All the eyes of the class were directed at the board and the lecturer. But somehow she felt burning gazes directed right into the back of her.  _ They knew _ ! They didn't know; and deep down Chloe know that they didn't know. But in that moment. In that brief few seconds that felt like hours- Chloe lost her grip on reality. She was back to only being the older sister of the murdered little boy on the beach. 

~ ~ ~

"I'm I the only one who feels like they're losing their goddamn marbles?!"    
The comment did not actually come from an officer, instead it was Newton who was still somehow trying to fix the computers.   
“Ya know, kid’s got a point.” Ellie stirred her tea, staring into it blankly.   
“Olly knew Phoebe somehow. Paul seems… unlikely at this point. Anathema is…” Alec didn’t want to elaborate, “Leona, the poor lass… then Adam? What about wings? And nuns? And, ah hell!” Alec spat as his toast popped up charred black. It was fixable. Or, it would have been, if Fell hadn’t called his debriefing.   
“Come on Sir.” Ellie beckoned before whispering, “give him a chance.”

Alec rolled his eyes at her and took a seat where he could stare at Fell directly in the eyes. But now when he looked at the man, he felt a little swell of warmth. How he had helped Leona had left an impression on him.   
"Welcome everyone. Sit, please… this is quite the gruesome scene. Now before I show the pictures, please be weary. If you must leave please do so." Fell gave the softest of smiles. Ellie's heart clenched in anxiety. Part of her wondered how Fell kept so collected.    
"Time and location of Phoebe 'Ebby' Antre's death will be reported by the pathologist. I am here for the indications of ritualistic motives.. Firstly, blood placement indicates it was intentional. Her limbs were all severed in ways that was meant to extract the most blood at once. She was drained. She died before the draining, we believe, from what looks like an arrow to the chest. Both of these things are ritualistic and they'll be elaborated on by the pathologist.” Fell took a deep breath, steadying himself, “ _ now _ , the nine slips of paper scattered around the body. Seven of which are bible verses.”   
Fell’s board was lined up to the brim with analysis. 

_ I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she must be silent- _ __   
_ Do not spare them, but kill both man & woman, child & infant, ox & sheep, camel & donkey- _ __   
_ Do not allow a sorceress to live- _ __   
_ Happy is he who repays you for what you have done to us. He who seizes your infants & dashes them upon the rocks- _ __   
_ Take your son, who you love & go to the land of Moriah, & offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you- _ __   
_ Night & day among the tombs. He was always crying out & cutting himself with stone- _ _   
_ __ You must not eat the blood. Pour it on the ground like water-

"Out of context or not, these quotes are troubling. So what do we know about the killer based on them? They're religious, heavily. Or they're in spite of religion. A few were motives we can see on the body and at the scene. Pouring blood on the ground like water, rocks in the room by her knees. Maybe she had authority, maybe she was believed to be a sorceress?"   
"Dr. Fell, would you be able to explain why this is dangerous?" Alec piped up, looking down his nose at the doctor. He looked startled for a mere second. Quickly taking a breath and steadying himself.   
"It's dangerous because it falls into the minority. Of those who are killed, a significant number would have known their killer. With this sort of motive; it's limitless. Anyone and everyone is at risk. It's not fueled by the complexities of human relationships but merely human nature. God forbid you find yourself in the way of this killer. Because they have an obscure checklist. You may just tick all the boxes without even knowing." 

In eerie silence that fell upon those in the room, officers looked at each other in quiet disbelief. Fell could almost hear the heartbeats. They  _ raced _ . Adrenaline could become intoxicating. Then, a burst of sparks from the corner of the room. Hearts lurched and officers jumped to their feet from where they had been seated. The desk was seemingly uninhabited. Now scorched, the papers alight with red embers that slowly chipped away at the pages.a head popped up from beneath the desk, Fell recognised the man immediately. Clearly, Alec did too as he groaned and let out a vicious snap,

"Pulsifer! I swear to---"   
"I'll be leaving." Newton slowly stood up, his shirt puffing smoke out as he did so.    
"My desk!" An officer exclaimed, moving over to the smoldering papers. Newton looked from the officer to the desk and back to the officer. Slowly, he picked up a book on the desk, now charred beyond reading, and handing it to him.    
"Sorry my bad." The mumbled sentence was apologetic. Somewhere beneath the embarrassment.    
"Two days I've had this book on my desk. I've been working here three years! What are the bloody chances?!" The officer looked over the cover, "bugger it, I'll never finish The Sound of Music."

Not that copy, at least. Not now that the wrath of fire had left scars on the pages. 

~ ~ ~

It was too late into the evening when the news came through. Ellie had been reading over case notes, wondering how these seemingly nonsensical terms fitted into the case at all. Wings and nuns and cults. Passages and moon phases and probably the Kraken for all Ellie knew. But the call had been a good thing. It was short and simple but it gave Ellie the kind of hope that felt anything like hope. Hopeful fear. Fearful hope. The call had just said,   
“The property, the abandoned house, it belongs to Susan Wright. Belonged to, at least, she has passed away since.”   
The fear set in at the name Susan Wright. Dejavu was beginning to breach into reality too much. Elie would have to talk to her claimed son, Nigel. Nigel knew Mark, Mark had been married to Beth. Things sometimes swung in full circle. With a prayer to a god she didn’t believe in; Ellie wished that this case wouldn’t drag her friends into the whirlpool of hell on Earth. Not again. Not like before. Not like Danny.

  
  


~ ~ ~

"A picnic?" Alec frowned. The look on Fell's face was one of pure confusion. As if Alec's tone of disbelief was an obscure idea.    
"Why, yes. Not something you're used to? Please, sit."   
"Uhhhh…." The memory of dinner at Ellie's house all those years ago flashed in his head. The importance of social aspects. Alec was very poor with them. He imagined the scrutiny he'd get from Ellie if he denied this offer. "Aight.”

When Fell had asked Alec to meet him by the cliff path overlooking the beach, Alec had not known what to expect. A find, a clue, a lead, a secret, maybe just to tell Alec that he didn’t appreciate his attitude. Instead, Fell had gestured to a tartan rug with cheese and wine in a woven basket. Alec had asked what it was and Fell had softly said that it was a second start.   
“We got off on the wrong footing.” Fell blinked, pouring a glass of what looked like Châteauneuf-du-Pape, 1921. Alec also spotted a little bowl of fruit. The most ripe of which seemed to be an apple. Moving his eyes to not stare, Alec awkwardly took a seat and stared out into the horizon where the sun was seemingly sinking into the ocean.

"Dear boy, you must be absolutely blinded. Here--" From the woven basket, he handed Alec a pair of sunglasses. Circular, metal mesh on the outer rims, very sleek. Somewhat ridiculous. There was a look of fantastic genuineness in Fell's eyes. Alec watched him for a few seconds, squinting against the sun. Soft blond hair drifting back and forth in the breeze, occasionally letting a leaf settle in its midst until the wind decided there were other places to visit. Although, no other places really compared. Not that Alec thought anything of the such. 

It was in times like these that Alec's already stubborn attitude worsened. It wasn't Alec's fault. Not entirely. He liked to think himself a reasonable person. A reasonable person who had suffered maybe too much deceit. If you were pull Alec's soul apart you would find his roots buried in soil watered with blood. Not  _ all _ literal. Blood of crime scenes, yes. Sandbrook and Broadchurch's blood. The crimes of Lee and Joe. He carried those crimes like bruises that dwelled under the skin. They weren't visible. But by god, could they hurt. But there was his own blood there too. The same blood that Daisy had in her veins. The blood of his family, the blood of his job, it all pumped through him like an electric shock. 

Alec was wound up in the painfully undeniable reality that all humans were. Suffering, greatly, from the imperfect human condition. But when Alec looked at Fell, there was something else there. And that, well, that intrigued him.   
"What's your problem with…" Alec couldn't remember his name,   
"Gabriel?"   
Alec did not much more than click his fingers in response.    
"He… he made my life quite difficult. He's a fan of strongly worded letters. Let's just say I was a target of his."   
The term target would usually raise red flags. But considering who he was talking to, and that he did not mind the colour red, Alec leant forward a bit. Watching as Fell slowly took a bite into a cherry. Alec's curiosity had peaked, he was interested.    
"What did you do?"   
"Uhhh let's just say the last place I worked for… I didn't have all my faith in their 'intended plan'. I may have made some choices. Not in spite, mind you! Never in spite. Just in…  _ well-thought out resentment. _ "

Did Fell  _ ever  _ get to the point? His eyes were stuck on the crashing waves. The anger of the ocean swelling in its tides, taking it out against the coastline. Pulling sand into its depths only to spit it back out. A cycle of endless push and pull. But in his thoughts, Fell's eyes dropped downwards to stare thoughtfully at the cherry pip in his hand. 

"There was a woman. She was a detective. Young, new, full of life. Her and her husband were planning to have a child, the higher ups found out. They told me they were to fire her. Some abhorrent excuses about funding cuts, policy violations, no one could give me an answer. So I… I gave her the key piece of evidence that would win us the case--”   
_ “You did what?!”  _ Alec gaped, smiling in surprise. Well, he'll be damned.  _ A smile _ .   
“Well she wrote something in her notes that gave me a hunch! It was right, I gave her the credit. It was her work to begin with… I just said  _ Here you go. Murder Weapon. Don't thank me. And don't let the sun set without showing them what you’re made of. _ ”   
“And Gabriel…?”   
“Oh he just lapped it up. Declared shame on me for being shown up by a younger, inexperienced detective. Told me that I wasn’t living up to my role… I just hope it wasn’t the wrong thing.”   
Alec casted his gaze towards the setting sun.   
“Doesn’t sound like the wrong thing.” He admitted, looking back at Fell’s face, “ _ and _ for the right reason.” He thought of his own experience in Sandbrook. Alec had done the wrong thing for an emotional reason. That didn’t draw a line of right and wrong. But it did say something. 

Sandbrook had been Alec’s  _ fall _ . 

“How is one meant to define themselves once they realised they  _ aren’t all good?”  _ Fell asked no one but the clouds of vibrant oil pastels. All orchids and violet, dip dyed in pastel rose.    
“Whh… uhhh…” Alec frowned, rubbing the back of his head, "not exactly my expertise. I'm… well… my- our- colleagues, they used to call me shitface. I think they still do."   
"Quite unprofessional, is it not?"   
"Myeah but. Let 'em have their fun, I guess."   
"Even at your expense?"   
Alec fell quiet. A lot happened in his life at his expense. Some, even, self inflicted.    
"Especially then." He admitted with a sigh. The sad look on Fell's face did not help. 

It was at this very moment that a slow patter of rain descended from the sky. Alec began to look at what to pack away but, with a soft metal click, an umbrella opened beside him. Fell made no attempt to move anything.    
"You don't want to pack this up?" Alec frowned at the rug they sat on.    
"No, not particularly. The rain is simply divine. Look at it, giving life to everything it touches. Take a second to just soak it in." With that, Fell shuffled closer to Alec. He moved the umbrella over the two of them. Fell laughed lightly, "not literally, of course." 

Following Fell's gaze into the distance, Alec found a calling. A whistle on the breeze, tearing leaves from their branches. Although his eyes were watching the distance, where streaks of rain broke through pastel painted clouds. His ears were listening. That whistle, low and whispery, reminded Alec of who the enemy was. It was those who he couldn't see, behind those trees. Not the man next to him. No, Fell was no enemy of his. Alec felt his heart lighten slightly, the stiffness of his limbs settled and he leant further into the centre of the umbrella.    
"You don't believe rain is a bad thing?" Alec asked, hushed.    
"Not at all. Don't let the weather fool you, Hardy. Just because the sky is dark, doesn't mean there's evil about. Bad things happen, but that doesn't make everything bad. Don't allow it to win."

Somehow, against all odds, that was enough for Alec.  


~ ~ ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been a hot minute  
im so busy  
i have an exam in two days wish me luck fnnhfd


	4. When There Is a Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions are asked and, yet, they only lead to more questions.
> 
> Trigger warning: self destructive breakdown.

"She _ain't _my fuckin mum." 

Alec had forgotten how apprehensive Nigel could be. How viscous words could be spat, how much syllables could feel like ammunition.   
"Right. Well. We know that she had many… uhh connections, _per say_. One of which was you. But. You are the only person that her will was made out to."  
"Aye. I know. Threw it out. Like I said. Susan Wright? Not my fucking mother."   
As to whether he was or wasn't Susan's son; his name was still on her will. That will listened, among mere things, the property in question. 

"You know the area of the house?" Alex asked, looking at his notebook rather then Nigel whose face had screwed up in annoyance.   
"Nah not a clue. Why ya askin' anyway?"   
That was a sure way of knowing that Nigel really didn't know what was happening, or, he was a persistent liar. It was public news that the body had been found in Pymore. Alec frowned, not too sure how to get anything useful out of Nigel without the words being tainted with the hatred he had for Susan.   
"Silent treatment, huh? Well if it helps, she may have sold it."  
"What, and kept it in the will?" Ellie asked, pulling a face that could only be identified as blatant confusion.   
"Her will had not been updated in a lil while..." Alec chimed in before Nigel decided to help,  
"She'd use it as a fuckin’ threat. Said she'd sell it if I didn't admit we were family. I told her to hell with it and her. I didn't want her fuckin' old house filled with memories of a family that never existed."   
As each word dragged by, the sadder they became. Ellie felt her heart ache for Nigel. They had been somewhat close once- what felt like a millennia ago. Nigel had worked with Mark during the days of Danny’s investigation. Back when times were simpler and secrets were manifesting into monsters under beds.  
"Might have an idea who it was sold to, though. Because I got all her letters. Hadn’t had enough good weather to bonfire them like I’d planned to. There's so many of ‘em."  
Alec screwed his face up, watching how Nigel avoided all eye contact.   
“Did… you just use bonfire as a _verb_?”

In collecting the papers that Nigel had been referring to, the officers missed something. Although, it is hard to miss something that was already gone. In the back of his van, an empty hook hung loose. Empty of what it had once kept in its possession. Just why the crossbow wasn't hanging where it often once had was a mystery. 

_ **~ ~ ~** _

Ellie, in no world, could have missed the way that Alec’s attitude had changed around Fell. He was talking to him voluntarily, for one. Secondly, he had asked Fell into his office to discuss the case. No points needed to go past two because Alec loved the privacy of his office. Ellie watched through the slits in the blinds, smiling to herself. There was something in the way that Alec lent into Fell’s presence. Something that reminded her of herself when Alec had first started working. How she used to hold connections so dearly, with so much love and gratitude. The way those connections changed in Danny’s case. Now they were frayed and twisted, splitting at the seams. But they were still there, somehow, she had held on with whitening knuckles. The skin of her palms becoming flayed at such a grip. But she had held on. Only she had never seen that with Alec. Those connections were there. Damaged, yes, but there. He had just never reached out. Not until Ellie and once more, right here, with Fell. By God Alec would never admit it but Ellie could see it.

She had a mental note to poke some fun at him for it later. 

_ **~ ~ ~** _

Fell’s heart sunk for Paul. When he was asked to attend the questioning for alibis, he had not known that Paul was on the list. They had not spoken since Fell’s first night in Broadchurch and the look on the young man’s face when he was accompanied with Ellie and Alec had not been what he had expected. Pain, almost. Fear, a little. _Why_ he couldn’t help but wonder.  
"Paul.”  
“Ellie.”  
Alec didn't say a word. He watched the two of them, a reunion of strange parameters. Paul then turned to Fell,   
“I wasn't aware you were…” _police _was the missing word_._  
“So you’ve already met Dr. Fell?” Alec spoke suddenly. Hands clasped behind his back as if in line. Ellie’s notepad hovered awkwardly, her pen barely skimming the paper. But it was her eyes that Fell was watching. They were elsewhere. Scanning the length of the church, the shine that was now glinting sunlight off the floorboards. Absent of dust and grime, as it had been.  
“Y-yes we met the other night. What is this about?” The flare of fear was one that Fell never missed. It was much like the reaction of a slamming door. The jolt, the adrenaline that needn’t have stirred to begin with.   
“This past Sunday evening…?” Alec wandered somewhat, looking anywhere but Paul. “Where were you?”  
“I was driving. Nearly here. But not just yet.” Paul’s foot took half a step forward but was quick to retract it. Hands fidgeting with a button on his white shirt, Fell watched Paul swallow harshly. “I wasn’t in town, you can’t possibly think…”  
“A murder. Religious themes. Empty bottles. Your conveniently timed return.”  
“W-what was that?” Paul’s hands stopped suddenly and his nails found themselves embedded in his skin. With a nonchalant rise of his eyebrows, Alec shrugged, “_what was that, that you just said?!”_

Ellie flinched at the way he spoke. Red colour was seeping into Paul’s eyes as tears welled yet managed to hold their position. None had fallen from where they beaded in Paul’s eyelashes.   
“You have _some _nerve on you, Hardy. To even insinuate-- to even suggest that--”   
Fell was missing a piece to the conversation. There was a fragment of it, something that he wasn’t privy to.  
"I-if I may--" Fell wanted to help. He _ached_ to help, his muscles clenched,  
"_Don't_." Paul's words were riddled with pain, "for the love of--"  
"His holiness? For the big G?" Alec almost seemed to be sneering. "As quick to abandon him as you are to--"  
"Stop. Alec, I--" Paul took a breath, "I understand your strife. I understand your frankly irritating need to solve these cases. I get it. But you can't blame me because I'm one of very few here that holds faith. Because I used to… be…" 

He was still shaking in anger. By this time Ellie had already jabbed Alec with her elbow. He had an issue with drawing the line between being blatant and point proving. Paul couldn't seem to finish that sentence. So, instead, he took a shaky breath and whispered,  
"I'm sober. I've been sober for _years_."   
Fell suddenly understood and the pain in his heart for Paul didn't lessen at the words. It had sounded as if the words had tortured his vocal cords just by saying them.   
“I wasn’t in Broadchurch. Fell knows, he was here when I got here.”  
Fell nodded, looking over the three of them with a curious gaze. There was clearly much more to them then he had once assumed. A part of his skin still felt prickly with guilt at how Alec had confronted the situation. 

There was still the real question about _where _the murder had occurred. With mismatching dates, locations and suspects, finding the timeline was hard. Ellie had been considering how Anathema had discussed the blue moon, how Adam had discussed wings, why the house belonged to a woman now passed, none of it linked. Across the window by her right hand side was a flickering candle. A moth flew by, catching itself in the wax. Then, it clicked.  
"Oh…" She whispered, eyes moving to stare right at Fell but somehow through him at the same time. "Oh I understand! Adam was right!"  
Alec looked as if he had just been stung by a bee. Irritated, confused, almost offended.   
"The wings. He mentioned wings. Like. Fly wings. Flies on the body. Flies that can…"  
"Tell the time of death… or _place_." Alec put two and two together, finishing Ellie's sentence.   
One of arguably many inconveniences about Broadchurch was that the police were not equipped with specifics. Blood splatter, ballistics, toxicologists. They had a very few number of employees of the sorts. But nothing near to whole other branches of department. Small towns didn't often need such specifics. Alec had to wonder just where they could _find _an entomologist. 

_ **~ ~ ~** _

When the door shut behind Chloe, she felt a sense of permanence in it. A return to Broadchurch didn’t mean she would be trapped there but there was something about the thud that said _one-way-ticket_. The moment the taxi had driven into Broadchurch, Chloe felt her pseudonym slip through her fingers. She was a Latimer on this side of the coast. Chloe Solano was the student that had been left on the other side of that taxi door.

“Chloe?!” Looking up to a voice she hadn’t expected to hear so soon, she was met with the smiling face of Daisy. Chloe nearly cried right then and there. Away from Broadchurch, the idea of the town would become catastrophic. It seemed an awful, distant place filled to the brim with bad memories. Growing, thundering, igniting, until it was its own separate entity capable of the worst things. Daisy’s face was enough to clear that smoke and dull that ignition.   
“Oh God, Daisy.” Forcing back the urge to tear up, she ran to her old friend and embraced her in the kind of hug that almost seemed like a tackle. The force in Chloe’s fingertips grasping at Daisy’s jacket was just a bit too desperate.   
“W-what are you doing here?! You…” she pulled back to look Chloe in the eye and whispering, “_you shouldn’t be here._”  
“The murder, I know, I--” Ducking her head to glance over her shoulder, who knew who could be listening, “I couldn’t leave my mother, she-- _this _has to bring back bad memories of Danny.”  
Daisy could only nod. No words could fix then, nor now.  
“Leona will be glad to know you’re here. The Them too. We are having a get together on the weekend. For…”  
“Phoebe, right? _God,_ I can’t believe it. I’ll be there. For sure. Count me in.”  
“Can I offer you a tea? I was headed home, dad is at work.” The hopefulness in Daisy’s eyes wasn’t even needed for Chloe to say yes.

Daisy had been right, her father was working. Chloe could only imagine Ellie was with him and the case that was unfolding was as horrific as Danny’s case. Chloe did regret the hatred she had for Ellie all those years ago. There's no guidebook for how to feel about the wife of the man who had killed your brother. Daisy hadn’t been around Broadchurch during that time and so, Chloe saw her in a clearer light. No lies, no involvement. Chloe could see Daisy as a person, not a suspect. She was thankful for that. Even more thankful when Daisy didn’t talk to her about the case. Instead, Daisy was brimming with questions about the Somerset University and what Taunton was like. She asked about the foundation degree, about where it was would take her, how much it would cost. Chloe was frankly overwhelmed by Daisy’s excitement. It was when minutes turned to hours and the sun began to set that Chloe remembered there was more life in Broadchurch then there was death.

_ **~ ~ ~** _

“Where in the hell do we employ a forensic entomologist from?” Ellie scoffed, “I mean we were lucky to get Fell but we didn’t even ask for him.”  
“You didn’t?” Fell lowered his tea, looking over to Alec who was much closer to him then Ellie was. “Curious.”  
“We mentioned something about rituals and then, you were here.”  
“Our prayers answered. I think.” Ellie chuckled, dulling somewhat when her attention was turned back to the papers in front of her. “We have so much to look into yet…”  
“So little to work on? Satanic cult of something? The bible, the poetry, the astronomy, the bloody God knows at this point.”  
“Mmm not to mention Susan Wright’s papers and the entomologist.”

“What’s this?” A fourth voice made them all jump. Swiveling in her chair she saw Brian leaning against the door frame. “Entomology?”  
“Oh, hello Brian. We still need a place of death, it’s not that we don’t trust the pathologist but…”  
“It’s okay. I have questions about the time of death anyway. The colour is all wrong. Where there should be pooling there isn’t, making it fresh. Where there shouldn’t be other skin colours there is, making it bloated. The draining makes all that tricky anyway... so my money is on a bunch of question marks.”  
Alec grimly nodded, comparing Brian’s comments to the photos.  
“I’ll be around if you need me, though.” With a raise of his mug, he was gone.  
The conversation turned to strange brainstorming. Strange in the way that Ellie and Fell seemed to bounce ideas off of one another and Alec was on a separate tangent of his own. It was not much longer before another fourth voice.

“H-hello. Not to interrupt---”  
“Laddie, that's exactly what you _have _done.” Side-eyeing Newton was an understatement. Alec was squaring him up for size.  
“B- wh-- point taken. I heard your conversation. My friend and I, Erik, have started going to this bar--”  
“Miller. Can you recall if I asked?” Alec raised his eyebrows,  
“Just hear me out... the owner seems to know a lot about bugs. Flies, specifically. It’s really quite peculiar… on the corner of Meadowlands, new, I think? Doesn’t look it.”

The Meadowlands road had consisted of not much other than houses. A bar being down that road would make sense for business, with little competition around it. But there was something else about the mere area of the place that gave Alec the strangest sense of dejavu.   
“Come Hell Or High Water.” The words were in the air before Alec had even processed them. “That’s what it’s called, right?”  
Ellie’s face of unrelenting confusion was almost comical.  
“Forgot you were the most social here, know all the bars do ya?”  
“No it’s Hastur. Bloody drunken rambling arsehole. He’s said it a few times in his many _end-is-nigh_ speeches. He’ll probably be there…”

_He was there_.

Alec had insisted that if they were to ask about anything in a bar that it be done during a time where alcohol would be less likely to be involved. Yet Hastur seemed to give just as much trouble to Alec as any other time.   
“Sir Hardy, Sir.” The ramble was absolutely pulsating with satire, “flash bastard, finally listening to us, are you?”  
“Not now, Hastur. Piss me off some other time.”  
“Fine. But. Read the signs. Don’t lick the damned walls, you hear?”  
Alec turned to Newton and asked him why exactly he drank at such a place. Newton didn’t have much of an answer. Nor did Erik, the friend of his that had nervously joined them. He insisted on not wanting much trouble but that he could introduce them to the owner. Who, curiously, Erik had addressed as Lord. 

“Beelz is acceptable. If you have authority issues.” Shorter in height then he had expected, Beelzebub wore a scowl. “What is it that you want? A drink? We have a lot, don’t offer any holy water though.”  
“Your previous qualifications…”  
Ellie zoned out somewhat once Alec started talking. Instead her attention was turned to Newton and his friend.  
“I’m sorry. But. Erik, right? Is that Erik Tennyson by any chance?”  
He nearly choked on his drink,  
“I- yeah--”  
“Sorry, sorry, you’re just my son’s art teacher. Or substitute?”  
“Oh. _Oh. _Phew. That was worrying for a second.” Ellie laughed at the relief on his face, “but yes, that’s me. I’m there when Trevor can’t be. I think you know him too?”  
“Trevor Smith, yeah. Good lad. He---”  
“Come on Miller. We’re going.” Alec butted in, taking the three of them by surprise,   
“Pardon, Sir?”  
“We have what we came for. Beelz is going to meet us at the station later.” He nearly, _nearly_ cracked a smile, “we have our entomologist.”

_ **~ ~ ~** _

Becca had sworn that the situation she was in would never happen. Not again. Sitting nervously in the police station, clutching a small bag. It wasn’t her bag. That was the problem with it. Gorgeous leather, black with strange beige symbols on it. There was a shake in Becca’s hands when she gave it over to the policeman. It matched her voice too,   
“This belonged to Phoebe Antre.”

Within minutes, she was in an interview room. Alec and Ellie staring her down. It was just as unnerving as the first time. Only this time, she had to prove that she wasn’t directly involved. Last time had been clearing someone else's name. Now, she was the one in questioning. Every item from the bag was being removed and resealed.   
“Becca.” Alec’s tone hurt. “Could you state, for the record, what you have just bought in for us.”  
“I--” her mouth was dry. Grossly so. It was absent of coherent sentences, “I have bought in the handbag that belonged to Phoebe Antre.”  
“And how come it was in your posession?”

That was the killer. The parts of the last case that Becca hadn’t learnt from. The small choices that could be blown out of proportion.  
“I had hired Ebby, that’s what Phoebe Antre was called, uhh I had hired Ebby as a cleaner for the Traders. She was good at it, became focused, focused enough to leave her bag there after her shift.” Becca made eye contact best she could. There was so much to consider. For one, how could a person sit in an ‘innocent way’? Should she change which leg crossed over the other---  
“Was she listed as an employee?”  
“No, Sir.”  
“Now, why was that?”  
“She had a student visa. I didn’t know if she was actually _allowed _to work. She mentioned to me that she was after some money, God knows why because her parents are said to be well off. But she wanted it. And she wanted it in cash. I didn’t know her bag was there until it buzzed.”  
“And who was calling?”

Becca tried to say the name but she could only take a nervous breath. Eyes unable to look at Ellie for too long.  
“Olly. Olly Stevens.”  
Ellie’s anger was immediate. Flare of nostrils, tightening of her fists. Fell’s hand on her knee only did so much to help settle her. But it passed and, before Alec could ask, Ellie did it herself,  
“Why would Olly Stevens be contacting Ebby?”  
“You have to remember when I say this, that it’s nothing I can confirm. We had suspicions he and Ebby were… intimate.”  
Alec didn’t miss the clench of Ellie’s jaw,  
“No proof?” She asked, sounding perfectly calm. Alec’s chest swelled with respect and admiration.  
“No, Sir.” Becca looked her right in the eyes. _I’m sorry you had to hear it from me,_ they seemed to say, _I’m sorry._  
“What were you doing over the weekend?” Alec changed the topic.  
“Working. Nigel was around often, he could confirm.”  
“We will be sure he does. Thank you, Ms. Fisher. We will contact you further if need be.”

_ **~ ~ ~** _   
  
  


"Mmm, you said the scene was meticulouzzz?"   
"Yeah, everything was how it was meant to be." Fell nodded nervously, “it was like a painting. An artist’s piece.”   
"Right." Silence followed. Beelz had spent little time between their meeting and this moment. Flashing the qualifications before Alec’s eyes and looking over the specimen without waiting for permission. Sure enough, a doctoral degree in anthropology, specified in physical anthropology and a Ph.D. in entomology. 

“And you ended up running a bar…?” Alec whispered a little too loudly,  
“Better at organizing people… the wings, the young boy was right. You've been wrong. The body is showing late day two signs, early day three signs. You can see it here,” Belle pointed to the photograph where Ebby’s hips had discoloured into a tinge of green, “the putrefaction here, by the hips. More likely she was killed late Saturday, not Sunday..."  
"Lines up with the blue fucking moon." Alec rubbed his face with the palm of his hand. With the most offended tone, Fell jumped at the outburst.  
"I _really _do not think the moon needs that kind of talk, Hardy."   
"I- wh-?"   
"Listen!" Beelz had nearly buzzed in annoyance, "see thizzz, the livor mortis… it’s not _right_. She has been moved many times… I need to see photozz of her eyes, the wound az well.”

Ellie sorted through the files with careful consideration. Even now, this far into the investigation, she still refused to believe the state of the scene. It was unearthly, horrendous, almost straight from the pits of hell.   
“I noticed it too, the blood pooling, it wasn’t right. Brian mentioned it earlier too.” Fell spoke softly as both Alec and Beelz looked to him. He was suddenly on the spot but after a quick glance to Alec, he felt calmer. The dark brown of his eyes had been somewhat grounding. “We have the insects collected are over on that bench there…”  
Beelz wandered over but with a strange] posture. Not a casual kind of wander but one of anticipation. Not fear, but recall.

There had been so many bugs and insects by that crime scene. Ellie shuddered at the memory of spiderwebs that had been stained red.   
“Here. _Here _izzz your source,” Beelz tapped at a particular jar, “Sandgraver. This beetle it's native to the coast. Pymore is too far inland for this kind of beetle to feed on the body. Can I have the photos, Miller?”  
Ellie handed them over with the kind of teeth-gritted smile that people fake when they're uncomfortable. The low buzz that emanated from Beelz’s throat made Fell's teeth grit.   
"Her eyezz, see? The fly's eggs, they're hatched. By the size of the larva, I’d say three dayzz old.”  
Ellie felt somewhat sick to her stomach and the lack of colour in Alec’s face said the same.  
“Post-mortem interval is three days. Not two. This was Saturday. Not Sunday.”

_ **~ ~ ~** _

“--the data can actually _show _what kind of oscillations you’ve just witnessed, which is why it’s _so_ important to have good recording devices and frankly immaculate timing. Have your light meter and histogram ready or it won't be worth it.”   
Ellie and Fell had taken place by awkwardly lingering by the door of the room. Something Ellie hadn’t known about the local school was that the rooms were used overnight by communities for meetings. One of which happened to be the Astronomical Society of Broadchurch which held regular meetings in accordance with a wine and cheese club. But with Anathema’s emphasis on the saturday and Beelz’s confirmation of post-mortem interval, Alec had put a highlight over the idea of the blue moon.   
“Here are two graphs of my own when imaging oscillations. See this one, here, is a symmetrical curve dip. Flawless curve. So at the bottom is where the light is obscured. But this one here, see the harshness of the dip? Strict lines, means there’s atmosphere and, oh, sorry--”  
The man had only just noticed Ellie and Fell, he made gesture movements beckoning them to enter.

“Hi, everyone, I’m--”  
“Ellie?” From the small gathering, a man rose from his chair. He looked instantly familiar but it took her a moment to recognise the face. Defined jaw and green eyes.  
“Geoff?” The name came to her as soon as he began to approach.   
“What’re you doing here? Is everything okay?”  
A part of Ellie was comforted by the presence of someone she knew.  
“I need to ask a few questions about this past saturday. And its astrolo-- astronomical significance?” Stammering over words couldn’t be blamed on Ellie entirely. Not when she didn’t really have an idea of which was the correct word. There was a little chuckle from the crowd, most of whom were middle aged men, Ellie noted.

“Most of us were down at the Bodmin Moor Dark Sky Park. We have a few get away camps a year. This past weekend was one of them.” The gentleman who had been giving the presentation offered, “as to its astronomical significance…”   
“Barely any.” Geoff finished his sentence, “it was a blue moon, sure, last here until august of…what, 2021? But that's a side of astronomy we don’t take too much interest in. I mean, a second full moon in a calendar month isn’t much compared to what we are looking at.   
“If anything, the full moon is a nuisance for us.” A stranger spoke up from the crowd. Bushy white eyebrows narrowed into a frown, “the damned light just glazes my imaging. Nearly ruined my photo of NGC 6885.”  
“Your fault for choosing Vulpecula, I mean, mag 5.7 to 8.1!? Both Saturn _and _Jupiter were visible--”  
“Sounds like a coward move, Shadwell, not all of us can image Eta Carina from our backyards---”  
“Gentlemen.” Geoff sounded like he was scolding children, “we have guests and we aren’t helping.”  
“Yes, as fantastically confusing as this has been,” Ellie finally chimed into the bickering, watching Fell shuffle by to go and overlook the images on the walls. Printed in poster sizes and glimmering with glossy paper, they were photos to be marveled at.

“Ellie, hey.” Geoff pulled her aside lightly, the concern on his face was evident. “Sorry, do I call you Ms. Miller while on job, or?”  
“Miller is fine, Geoff. We aren’t strangers after all. How is Beth?”  
“Uhh well…” His eyes dulled somewhat, “she’s alright. Okay-ish. Doing her best. But, that’d for another coffee date, aye? About this, I can give you a list of who was there and who wasn’t, if that helps?”   
“Very much so, thanks--” Ellie looked over Geoff’s shoulder towards Fell who had been merrily talking with other people.

“Oh, this photo is absolutely stunning… it’s...”   
“Alpha Centauri. Binary stars. Two halves of a whole.” Geoff smiled almost shyly as he turned to Fell. It was like he was ashamed to show his interest in it. “God knows we have all tried to image it. There’s three of them, really, but A and B are the two main stars and make up what you see here.”  
Taking a sudden turn, Geoff became preoccupied with a bag next to the laptop that was still running the powerpoint projected on the screen.   
“It... it’s just… phenomenal.” Fell’s breath was a whisper, “I wish Hardy could see this…”  
Ellie’s laugh was little, like a small exhale of air and not much else,  
“Why?”  
“I think he’d like it. It’s far away from everything, isn’t it?”  
Geoff took Fell’s hand and raised his open palm. He placed a small photo, just as glossy as the rest. Looking it over, Fell made a soft sound.  
“Oh, thank you.” 

It was the same image of Alpha Centauri, blooming blue colour on the subtle purple of the sky behind it. Fell smiled, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it.

_ **~ ~ ~** _

Leona watched the stars glint in and out of clouds that rolled in front of them like the waves did to the coast. There was something in the lack of colour in them that used to let Leona's mind run wild. Her father was an astronomer, after all, and he would rant and rave about all the of the colours in the vastness of space. Now they merely seemed to leak a dull white haze into nothingness. Her head was running cold and heavy as she thought. Thought and thought and thought. She couldn't waste the night by sleeping, she couldn't waste it studying. No, she had to make sense of it all. 

If the world had created people from the dust of stars, then, what was the force that made them return to dust? During which phases, from dust to dust, were people to have justice? Leona picked up a stone, tossing it over in her hand, giving herself something else to look at. It cut at the skin of her hands. Blood looked much like ink at such a time of night. Running through her slim fingers in small beads.

Things didn't have to be pure to be appreciated, they just had to _be_. But Ebby? Ebby had been pure. She had been the kind of friend who you'd laugh so hard with that stomachs would tie in knots. Stitches would strain at hips and waists, painfully throbbing but the smiles were all so worth it. Humanity was created from stardust. Now, Ebby had returned to just that. She had become one with the roots of beginning. 

'It was too early..." Leona whisperer, staring at the waves lapping at her shoes and hungrily taking the droplets of blood she offered it. Leona had thought that Ebby had been much too quiet in those past few days. No unexpected messages rambling about the strangest things, Ebby had a habit of it. That morning where Leona hadn't woken up to a message, she felt something was wrong. Then the same for the next day. When Ebby hasn't shown up to school, everything felt worse. Ebby didn't get sick often, and Leona had sent a text that simply said _how come you're not here?_ With the waters drenching her jeans and her shoes so far beyond saving, Leona found herself revisiting the messages. Harsh white light and words hazed by tears.

_Hey my dude!_

_Hi so,_  
Had to stop on the way home due   
to a road altercation. I’m shaking.   
In my boots. We love a 4 v 1!

_im_  
Pardon?   
You okay?!

_Yeah, they didn’t physically attack me_  
It’s all fine. I’ll explain when I see you,  
Still at the bar?

_Yeah, the game doesn’t start for another 40. _  
It’s one of my favorites! The ol replays always get me but they  
always play 2003. We gEt iT we woN 2003, that was like  
a whOLe 16 years ago man.

_I can’t believe you’re gonna be _  
dragging me out to watch the world cup.   
If my parents knew I was watching union and  
not gridiron…

_4 months away, get keen my dude!_

  
There was endless scrolling past the worst kinds of humour that Leona still found herself laughing at through her tears. Poorly made photoshop edits and overly specific t-shirts. Calling out their worst traits through obscure memes and conversations that were unintelligible more then not.  
  
  


_Do you reckon I could teach your bird to talk?_

_Oh boy. Depends._

_I’d teach him to say sub-to-willne_

_hey what’s that even mean?_

_Shame on you, Leona, shame_

_Oi, oi, oi, oi, what are you doing RIGHT now?_

_im_  
yeah im good thanks for asking  
Studying. Gonna kill some people soon.

_i know i started this conversation but   
h u h_

_Giving Anthem a go. Im with the Them  
Can’t use a controller to save myself._

_oH_  
You gonna be over soon?  
Miss you, it’s been what, day and a half.  
Out here faffing about on the box of X.

_God forbid!?   
Jk, i’ll be over soon._

Leona remembered that night. Her mother had been working out of town for the past few days and Ebby had been over to make dinner. Over a bottle of sherbert-like wine and nothing important to wake up early for, they had watched a show and made terrible commentary.

All of that felt like months ago. 

At this time of night, the ocean sung for company. It begged through waves and tides, for the touch of something or someone else. Part of Leona wanted to sink into the water. To be consumed by the rocking pushes and pulls of the sea, as dark as the night sky it mirrored. She knew it wouldn't do any good. Then again, neither did what was to come. 

She screamed. 

The same words but elevated to a pitch of vocal destruction. _It was too early_. The tears fell. It was not the salt spraying off the coast that caught in her eyes, no, it was the passing of a friend. There was no fairness in reality, no justice for the stolen. 

There was a catch in her throat which had become raw from the scream. It tugged and pulled until she coughed, violently spluttering and heaving breaths which made her want to vomit. The world was caving in on her and the stars seemed to fall from the sky. Blurred by tears. Her fingers tightened into fists clenched and stained in ink. With no thought, she lashed out. Hitting the rocks over and over until skin split at the seams and her muscles felt so out of her control that every second was riddled with unstoppable tremors. 

It was with slow and very little succession that Leona returned to herself. It was too late to find clarity at that stage. She fell back, against grating, uneven edges and withheld the urge to scream again. The limits of her mind were closing in. There was very little she could think of. Sentences running off into nothing, ending where they weren’t meant to, starting mid-way. Every inch of Leona ached. It was staring up at hopeless stars, that the shock of pain and exhaustion.

She was dragged under into unconsciousness, luckily, with the alternative being beneath the waves that lapped with tinges of her own blood.

_ **~ ~ ~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: exams are over and so I'm actually able to write!? Less fun fact is that I'm not well at the moment, hope to be back on the A game soon. Less Alec and Fell fluff content here but, trust me, it's on its way!  
A funner fact: Check out @nieniekoto and @crusty_satan on Instagram for some absolute gorgeous art work based on the last chapter!! They're gorgeous and I'm in soft awe! I'm @ImmortalError on instagram, for some reason, really like to confuse people.


	5. Rented Light and Righteousness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With some new evidence coming in, names are being cleared or highlighted in ways no one could have expected.

**~ ~ ~**

Alec insisted he didn't gossip. Never in a million years would he even consider doing such a thing. An act of both childish and cowardly nature. But when he found a skip in his step, an anxious one at that, he knew what he was about to say  _ could  _ be considered gossip. 

"Miller. Miller, ay!"   
The work in her hand became second priority. Alec halted by the desk, slightly out of breath, "Fell just asked me to go for dinner."   
"Oh." Ellie frowned, the hands that were shuffling through the papers came to a halt, "when?"   
"Just then, keep up--"   
"No, when does he want dinner?"   
"Oh, Friday, why does that matter?! I just, what do I do?"   
"You tell him yes? If you want."   
"Ahhhh..." The next syllables that left Alec's mouth were all broken and never in a million years form a sentence, never mind a whole word. A series of 'hhnn' 'arggg' 'yehhh' and even a 'ngk'.    
"Well that's not an 'I don't want'. I'd say go for it. He really is quite lovely, you know?"    
"I know. That's what I'm worried about."   
The scrunch of Ellie's nose was nearly comedic.    
"You know what, Hardy. You really do find the strangest things to be unhappy about."

Behind his glasses his eyes were jumping to look at anything that wasn't Ellie. How could he be sure of the right way to react? The easiest way to think of it would be realistically. But Alec struggled with that sometimes. The words 'dinner out' often came back with 'divorce'. There was little to blame for that besides the flawed nature of humanity. With no further words but the eyes of a deer in a car's headlights, he nodded one too many times.  It had been the strangest proposition. Alec had been at his desk, Fell by his side as he had been often in recent days. There was a little lean where Fell brushed his elbow against Alec’s. Usually he would stray from that contact, remove itself from it immediately. He didn't do that, though. Maybe, he had decided, the case was too distracting to focus on other things. Although, if that were the case, surely he shouldn’t be flustered by it.

“Okay, the list is as follows.” Fell had said, peering through his glasses, “most of the alibis from the astronomy group do match up. All but Geoff, the group leader, and a few others who didn’t attend.”   
Alec put orange lines through the cleared names as Fell began to list them off. Strange, he thought, that the leader of a group wouldn’t attend the annual camp. Geoff’s name had a green highlight for that exact detail.   
“Olly is coming in within the next hour, for an interview. We know he knows more than he’s saying. We also know there was a potential intimate connection between himself and Ebby. He’s also under Gabriel’s watch, let me remind you that he is cunning.”   
More green. Why green? Well, Alec used the traffic light analogy. The case was continuing on with these leads- therefore it went forward.  _ Go _ . Although, there was no collecting $200.   
“Becca’s alibi? Not entirely confirmed yet, as compared to Paul who is in the clear. I didn’t enjoy how you questioned him, might I add. Seriously, we must discuss what happened. Over dinner, tonight, 7pm? You choose the venue, you live in Broadchurch after all. Excuse me, must go reheat my cocoa, it has grown cold.”

Alec had frozen in time. 

That was a few minutes prior and Alec knew that Fell would be back to the office soon. Instead of acting nonchalant, there was a confusing wave of emotion that washed over him. He found himself at Ellie’s desk, in this moment, not too sure what he was doing there.   
“Oh just go. Treat yourself, have some drinks, dress up a bit, take the weight off for a bit. Unless ya wanna take some  _ other _ weight on… if ya catch my drift.” He didn’t. Not straight away. When he finally understood, after a prompt from Ellie’s expression, Alec’s glare could  _ kill _ .   
“Miller, I swear to---”   
“Hardy!”    
“Oh speak of the devil…” she spoke, “even if he is quite the opposite.”   
Alec had to restrain cursing under his breath as Fell approached them swiftly.

“There is a Mr. Stevens in Interview Room 2 for us.” He looked almost nervous and the smile he shot Ellie relay it perfectly. “We ready?”   
“Uhhhh, can’t think of any reason why not.” He gritted his teeth as his brain searched for an excuse to be at Ellie’s desk, “just reminding Miller to stay outta the Interview room. She is his aunty, after all.”   
“Slap the bitch for me.” She called out after them.   
“I do think that is highly against protocol!” Fell yelled back through cupped hands.

Within the seconds they entered and taken seats in the interview room, Alec had already noted many things about Olly. His appearance sharper than normal, his eye contact was too regular, there was a stiffness in his limbs. There was stress tucked behind his calm demeanor. After a shuffling of papers, Alec refused to waste anymore time.

“By the time of my watch it is presently 1153 hours on May 22, 2019. In charge D. I Alec Hardy along with uhhh Dr. A. Z. Fell, currently at the Broadchurch Police Station in West Dorset. This is for case number 2019-666. Presently  _ not _ in this room is D.S. Ellie Miller who isn’t here due to the interviewee being related by blood. Now, Olly, we have to get some basic info down before we start ‘ere. Firstly, it’s O-L-L-Y and Stevens is S-T-E-V-E-N-S, correct?”   
“Correct.” Olly’s hands twitched a little, as if he had had one too many cups of coffee.    
“Did you want to have a solicitor present?”   
“Nah, no point, ain’t done a thing wrong.” He flashed a smile.   
“Right, so, where were you on May 18th, which is this past Saturday night?”   
“Ahhh… I was…” He seemed to keep eye contact with Fell or the opposing wall. Alec didn’t venture near his range of site often. “Drinking. Went drinking. With some friends.  _ Well _ . Gabriel. We met some other lads that night, Erik, Trevor and Newton, I think? His girlfriend too, Anna-something. The place out on Meadowlands road, Hell or High Water?”

Alec was suddenly more thankful to have Beelz on his side. A confirmation of that would certainly be needed. Newton’s name nearly made Alec’s eyebrows raise.   
“Did you all drink?" Fell asked so softly that it barely sounded like a question.   
"Yeah, all of us, it was a bit much but I can remember the night. So. Ask away."   
Fell wrote a little note on his paper:  _ Gabriel doesn't drink- he despises it _ . Without any evidence of such a thing, Alec could only go off of Fell's word.   
"What did you do for the rest of the night?"    
"Gabriel and I got home, 'bout 12ish, weren't up until later Sunday. Hangovers, ya know?"   
Alec shifted forwards with unwavering eye contact. 

"Did you know Phoebe Antre prior to the news?" Alec changed the conversation with rapid pace.   
"No."   
"Olly, we  _ know  _ that's a lie. When you spoke to D. S. Miller and I after the public statement, you phrased a question to me with information that wasn't public. We had not said she was an international student, how did you know that?"   
"Alec.” The buddy-buddy tone Olly used was enough to make Alec’s teeth grit, “how many papers have I run down at the school?  _ Countless _ . When I haven’t heard of a student, I assume they’re international.”   
"Strange guess to jump to." Fell noted audibly, hands writing notes that would only add a small fraction of pieces to the jigsaw's worth of a case. "Even stranger to get that guess correct. Did you you also guess her phone number too? We have it. You called it yesterday."

Raising his eyebrows in a flash of impressed surprise, Alec had to restrain at smirk. The sarcasm had leached off of Fell. Olly looked defeated in that moment. Cast down head and eyes holding heavy shadows.   
" _ Okay.. _ . Yes. Yes I knew her. We were friends. I called to check that her phone wasn’t with me." He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. Eyes overshadowed in regret.    
"Just friends?" Alec peered over the rim of his glasses.    
"Yes."   
"We were told that you and Antre were seen together around the same time periods."   
"I---" Olly was getting restless. Fingers twitching and fiddling with the corner of the desk. Picking at dry skin and pulling it back until his nails were surrounded by raw flesh. He was going to cave in, _"she was paranoid."_   
"What about?"    
"One of her teachers, he'd said some strange things. Dr. Raven Sable, author of D-Plan Dieting: Slim Yourself Beautiful. Then, on the same day, the English teacher had joined in. Can't remember her name well, Carmine Zugiber, I think?" Olly wasn't making much sense. "I had been in the school doing a report. Ran into Ebby crying while in the halls, she seemed really distressed… so I gave her my number and said to call me to discuss it further. I thought I could help her. I was collecting some information on these teachers when they were fired. There was five, wait no, four of them. The other students had started calling the group the Four Horsemen. Tasteless, I know..."   
“As is the case.” Fell hummed aloud before clapping his hand over his mouth. “My apologies.”   
Hardy, who would have usually snapped, nodded in hesitant agreement.

“Can you give us the information you had on these so called Horsemen?”   
“Yes. Yes I can.” Olly nodded enthusiastically. Alec leant into the tape.   
“I’m satisfied with the answers I’ve been given here and wish to ask no further questions. Any follow ups will be made after analysis of evidence piece 666-27, the victim’s phone. If I shall just end the interview there, it’s 1221 hours and I’ll stop the tape.” With a quick click, Alec’s sight immediately jumped to Olly. It was harsh enough to keep him seated. “And another thing. Stay out of the case. Stay out of our way.”   
“Yes Sir.”

~ ~ ~

It wasn't the cold droplets of rain that woke Leona up, it was the unnatural shaking of her shoulder. 

"Hello?!"

The voice sounded desperate, whoever it was. It took her some time for the world to come back in fragments. The never ending sky, overcast but brightly so. Patched with occasional dark clouds, those that spat raindrops. The same ones that trickled down her forehead and into her eyes. She rubbed at them with closed fists, feeling the contact smudge a crumbling liquid against the skin. The spread of dry blood across her face woke her up. The smell of iron, the taste of drying blood, the rain that fell from a blinding sky. 

"Are you alright?!" 

That voice again. It was finally matching a face. Blurry at first but returning slowly. He looked young, mid twenties at best guess, and wore a crooked smile. It was covered with worry as he slowly helped Leona sit up. She took a second to take a look at the man. Black hair, short and eyes so grey that they almost looked glazed over. His red-ish nose was somewhat pointed and, as she was helped up, Leona noticed that his nails were black. 

“I-- y- yes…” The words left without much awareness. Was she alright? Not entirely.    
“The hell are you doing here?” There was a scratch to his throat, as if it wasn’t clear. He sounded sickly,   
"I--- needed some fresh air."   
"So you slept on a roc-- oh, your hand!" Leona recoiled harshly as the man's fingertips accidentally brushed the abrasions, “sorry. But. You should clean it, cover it up. You wouldn’t want an infection…  _ would you? _ ”   
It sounded almost,  _ almost _ , like a threat.    
“I’m Erik, by the way, it’s early in the morning. Wednesday.” Leona attempted to move to a stand but in the following few moments she realised it wouldn’t be that easy. Instead she resorted to staring into the ocean that looked darker than usual.   
“Leona. I… was---” among waves rising and falling as if in breath, a flash of silver caught her eye, “what’s that?”

Not for a second had Leona expected Erik to know the answer to the question. He peered out in the direction she was pointing.   
“Looks like a piece of metal?” Erik shrugged, misplacing it on occasion. There was little light from the overcast sky to create glimmers. Ocean spray that drifted into his eyes stung viciously and made it harder to see.    
“It looks sharp.” She commented, entirely distracted, “if it gets near the shore, it could hurt someone.”   
Erik looked doubtful. Leona was already shivering beyond help, clutching fists full of her own clothes’ fabric in an attempt to warm it up even a little. There was something in her pleading tone that pushed Erik to make the following choices. With quick succession he removed a majority of his clothes and, with a deep breath, scaled down the rocks until he was submerged. The rocks left little grazes in his heels. Quickly combated by the salt water, Erik hissed in irritation. 

“Be careful!” Leona hadn’t meant to guilt him into venturing into the cold waves but she was glad he was. A flash of worry overcame her and she thought about how sick he already looked. Never mind now that he was out in the water. It was all but uneventful besides the wave that caught him on his way back. The current swept him up and back against the rocks. He hit them with force, enough to split skin. Leona took his hand and helped him from the waves, salt water sinking into her own wounds. With a last haul, she managed to pull him up onto the rocky water breaker. Falling against the rocks breathless, she closed her eyes for a second. Only to force them back open at the noise Erik made. A merge of confusion and worry. 

“The hell is a crossbow doing in the water?” He asked, turning it over in his hand. It was a beautifully crafted firearm, expensive looking but not new.   
“Put it down.” Leona said suddenly, moving away from it as quickly as she could. “I-it just gives me a bad feeling, I--”   
Erik rested it down, eyes not moving far from it. He shook and shuddered, wheezing a little for breath.    
“What about it?”    
“It just… the police should have it, right? Danger to the public and all that?”   
“I guess.”

Leona hated how much she could empathize with that statement. Everything had turned to guesses. Nothing was set in stone anymore.

~ ~ ~

Ellie was frustrated as she so often was. Only this time it was because of Olly and his involvement in the case. It meant she couldn’t analyse the phone records. Once upon a time, long ago, when the scrutiny of Broadchurch’s police work wasn’t so harsh there was a possibility that Ellie would have been able to look at those records. She would have been able to look over those messages, avoiding Olly’s, and handed it over to someone else to do that part. But oh how that would damage the chain of custody which was now protected as if it was pure gold. 

But she did have the time to sort through some of Fell’s notes. The analysis was beyond excellent, almost unreal. It was as if Fell had a part in putting the bible together, he knew it back to front. There was analysis past what most would consider to be in-depth. Ellie had to remind herself that it was okay that she didn’t understand the annotations; that was why they had Fell to begin with. When the phone beside her blared suddenly, vibrating viciously, she nearly knocked over her coffee.

“Hello.”   
“Hello, D. S. Ellie Miller?” The unknown number spoke.   
“Correct.”   
“I’m just here to say the owner of the house has been found. The full reports will be delivered to you shortly. Over the time of the incident, it appears that the house was and still is owned by one Geoff Hadal. That’s G-E-O-F-F H-A-D-A-L”   
The phone nearly slipped from Ellie’s grasp. Her hands froze over, paralysed, as if infected with venom. There was a small tremor in those muscles as the name rang out from the other end. “Hello?” No, surely not. It couldn’t be Geoff. “Hello?! The line dead?”   
“N--no. Sorry. Thanks for the report. I’ll pass it along.”   
Without hearing another sound, Ellie hung the phone up. No goodbye, no good luck, no thanks, nothing. Just Ellie and her racing head.

Ellie would be the first to tell anyone that her bond with Beth was one that had only strengthened over the years. It was hard to see a friend like that go through so much pain. But it was meant to be moving past all that. The cops, the courts, the evidence, the interviews. Beth had done her fair share. She deserved someone who could provide security, stability, something coloured within the lines. Geoff was meant to be that.

Beth’s anchor.

Geoff now had two strikes on his name. One for being the leader of the astronomy group yet not joining their annual camping trip. No alibi. Second and most notable, for owning the house where the crime scene took place. But it didn’t add up. At least not to Ellie. Why would he have bought Susan Wright’s old house to only let it continue falling into disrepair? Why buy it at all? The worst part of knowing this information was that Ellie had to keep her mouth closed. Beth would find out somehow. Ellie just worried it would crush her.   
  
  


~ ~ ~   
  
  


“This will sting.” Daisy grimaced as she slowly let two small drops of antiseptic fall onto Leona’s knuckles.   
“Surely not mu---  _ woah _ , I-- damn.” She bit her lip, shaking nervously as the liquid seeped into the wounds and sent pain shooting through her hand. She twitched slightly, lip between her teeth, “oh yep, that, that stings. You didn’t lie.”

Leona had made her way to Daisy's shortly after she watched Erik hand the crossbow over to the police. She couldn't go home looking the way she was. Bloody and bruising. She hadn't expected to find Chloe there either, apparently having stayed the night with Daisy and Alec. Not that Alec had been home enough to know.   
"What and he just, gave it to the police? A whole crossbow?"   
"Nah just half of it." She sneered. "Yes. Yes he gave it to them."  
"I'd have kept it. Used it to protect myself." Chloe shrugged. Something about that tone sent worry through Leona.  


The stinging in her hand was enough to feel cold. The tremors along her muscles caused her hand to twitch. The liquid was dark in colour and left vivid stains across her skin.   
“Shit, Lee.” Chloe frowned, “you’ve done a hell of a job on that. You’re real damn lucky if nothing is broken.”   
Leona watched the blood bead amidst the deep shades of the antiseptic, looked at how skin was left torn. Parts looked like they’d come into contact with a broken paper shredder with strands of dead skin left frayed across her hands. She couldn’t move her eyes from the mangles mess of flesh.   
“Don’t think it’s broken… almost like a miracle, huh.” Her voice quiet and worried. Leona didn’t believe in miracles. What was the point? The worst had already happened. 

~ ~ ~

Alec hadn’t exactly  _ forgotten  _ to tell Fell that he would accept his invitation, more so that he had assumed his lack of remembrance spoke for itself. That speaking for itself told Fell very little, almost nothing. Fell had spent a majority of the day tapping his foot nervously and flicking the photo of the star through his fingers. It wasn’t until quarter to eight that Alec texted ‘ _ booking for 8pm’  _ and following with an address. Time didn’t seem to be Alec’s strong suit. 

He had arrived at the restaurant first, however. Taken a seat with a little nervous twitch in his shoulders. Spending the next ten minutes looking up suddenly to strangers and being disappointed that it wasn’t Fell. Until, it was.

Fell had never looked so picture-perfect. It was as if the jacket he was wearing had never met a crinkle in its life. In a beautiful white, accompanied with a little bowtie, the suit did Fell wonders. Miracles, almost. Never mind how the lights of the restaurant danced across the waves in his hair. The tartan bow made Alec scoff. Although it did remind him of the rug and that brought back the memory of the picnic. 

"Fell. You look… good, yeah, you look good."    
"As do you." Fell looked a lot more calm then Alec did. There was something about dinners in public that made Alec nervous. The people, most probably.   
"Please, sit, I've ordered some wine already."    
"Oh that's simply grand, red?"   
"Ah, yeah, it's Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Les Trios." Alec was hoping for no follow up questions about the wine. Ellie had been the one to suggest it and Alec hadn't asked why. "Red, I hope that's okay."   
"You've seemed to have read my mind?' he laughed softly, "a divine drink, that one."

Alec exhaled in relief as he hadn't known exactly what Fell would be a fan of. Thankfully the food wasn't his responsibility either. He was most thankful when it came to ordering and Fell decided on a meal Alec hadn't ever tried before. Shrimp scampi rang a grand total of zero bells but Fell deemed it to-die-for. Alec chose battered fish and salad. Simple, enough to get him through the night. 

“So, uh… how are you finding Broadchurch?” Alec didn’t know why he cared but he found himself asking it regardless.   
“I’m absolutely chuffed to be here, if I’m completely honest with you.”   
“I’d hope that’s what you’d be with me, honesty is key aye.”   
“Honesty is key.” Fell repeated, bowing his head a little as their food arrived, “oh thank you my dear, this looks scrumptious.”   
Alec only nodded to the waiter who looked to be genuinely smiling at Fell’s enthusiasm. He poured their wine before leaving them to a conversation that had ended. Alec intended on picking it back up.

"Speaking of honesty… you've never exactly told me your first name...?" Alec asked, pushing the food along the plate somewhat absent mindedly. He had heard it. But he had never been told it.    
"It's an old name, less so traditional and more so..." Fell looked as if he were searching for the right words,   
"You know you wouldn't have to describe it if you just told me, right?"   
Fell paused and with an irritated huff he slowly said,   
"Aziraphale." 

Something sparked within Alec. Aziraphale. It was a gorgeous name and a part of him found it suiting Fell perfectly.    
"Long. Complicated. Uncommon. It's alright, feel free to debate it's fitting..." Fell didn't make eye contact as he slowly ate another mouthful. Pausing briefly to hum contently and delicately dab the napkin at his lips.    
"I- I wouldn't." Alec found his usual tone of spite to have seemingly evaporated. "it's stunning. The name, it's stunning."   
The blush that crept onto Fell's face was unbelievably endearing. Alec felt a smile threatened to take over.    
"Oh-- oh-- well, thank you." Damn the crinkles that formed near Fell's eyes as he smiled. 

"Now… you organised this to, what was it, scrutinize my work?" Alec hummed almost passive aggressively. There was a smile there however.    
"Ah yes that's right." Fell shifted in his seat, eyes widened as if he had forgotten that was why he had asked Alec. "The other day, with Paul, you really didn't need to give him such grief. He seems a lovely man."   
" _ Seems _ , Fell,  _ seems _ is the key word. I don't think you really get how this town works. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is hiding something."    
"Including you?" Fell angled the fork as if he were pointing.   
"Well of course." Alec wasn't being funny but he made his tone soft. Part of him didn't want to scare Fell away.    
"Not even a pause for consideration, what happened to honesty is key?" Fell tilted his head, topping up both glasses of wine, "sometimes I wonder what it's like in your head, Alec."   
There was something about Alec's first name being said that sent chills down the back of his neck. They weren't bad chills, yet, somehow that in itself was bad.    
"You really don't." He huffed,    
"Oh but I do."   
"Yeah? And why is that?"

The silence that built between them wasn't awkward. It was taken up by eye contact. Alec watching the candle flames flicker in the reflection of Fell's eyes. Bright and warm yet soft and curious. He didn't answer straight away but, instead, went searching through his pockets briefly. After a few moments of struggle he handed something to Alec. A little slip of paper, glossy and deep with all its colour. 

"What's this?" Alec wished he had the confidence to ask what it had to do with wanting to know him.  
"This here is a photo of Alpha Centauri. It was given to me from the astronomy group D. S. Miller and I visited." Fell seemed to avoid eye contact.   
"And?"  
"And… it reminded me of you." The frown that Fell received was enough for him to scoff and explain further, "you know how, the moon borrows its light from the sun? I think a lot of people are like the moon in that sense. Bright, undoubtedly, just not the source. I didn't think the source was people."   
"You might be losing me a bit here."   
"At first I thought the only sources of that light could be from a higher authority, a divine being…"  
"Like, what, God?"  
"Among other things. God and her angels, and exclusively so. But… then I arrived here and met you. And you are, what’s the term?... oh, a plethora of confusion."  
"Mhm tell me how you really feel." Alec scoffed, leaning a little closer.  
"...when I started here, I asked myself, _in a town of broken stories and traumatic times, what kind of light can shine?_ I quickly found that it isn't the church. But then I met you, Alec. People borrow your light." In no memory that Alec could ever recall had he ever been so star struck. “Just like how celestial bodies borrow light from stars, like Alpha Centauri." 

Fell nodded to the photo in Alec’s hand, “all of the other stars in the night sky should envy you...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its  
been  
a  
while  
omg
> 
> but here is this chapter! I'm having bloody writers block which is never any good.  
im thinking the 8 chapters may not be enough. Would anyone possible be interested if I wrote a second story in the same way? Same characters, different case. I like writing slow connections, I think it would be better executed that way. If people arent interested, then, thats fine also :)
> 
> I hope everyone is having wonderful holidays!  
shout out to the Tea at the Ritz discord server for helping me with food related content. I'm hopeless in that department.


	6. Bittersweet Smiles in Eden’s Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ample evidence and friend's farewells.

~ ~ ~

_ I'm not scared, not yet, of looking down on the earth.  
And time flies when you're counting hours till the end.  
I'll just lie here, becoming my invisible friends. _

Adam tapped his hands along the handles of his bike to the beat. The wires of his headphones entangling in his jacket’s zip from time to time but it was never enough to make him stop. He had places to be, friends to see. Dog understood the importance of his ride. Sitting contently in the bike’s basket, his mouth ajar to taste the wind. 

_ Losing my faith so it can't be found.  
Staying inside, one with the ground.  
You'll say goodbye when the sun departs the sky. _

Adam couldn’t speak to animals per say. But when Dog took a moment to look at the contents of the basket, Adam knew what he was insisting.  
“We’ll get in trouble.” Adam reminded Dog who, again, nuzzled at the folded paper. He let out a little whine, as if in begging.  
“You’re right Dog, we really _ should _ test his reflexes as Neighbourhood Watch. If he can’t see this coming, who knows what he’s missing?”  
Dog seemed content with that answer and gave Adam’s hand a lick as he took the paper from the bike’s basket.

_ Drenched in the concept of a lie.  
When I say that I'm gonna be fine. _ _  
_ _ You figure me out, what's there to tell you about?  
I won't hide anymore, until I know what I'm here for. _

Anathema had been teaching him how to make paper planes. She had been trying to explain the idea of chemtrails before becoming quickly distracted by her own ability to make paper planes. The one in Adam’s basket had been one of the best. With expert precision and the approval of Dog, Adam lobbed it over the fence of neighbourhood watchman R. P. Tyler.  
“Adam Young!” Tyler yelled as soon as the plane skimmed his head, his sausage dog sniffing at it as it hit the ground, “you will be in big trouble!”  
“Routine awareness check, Sir. Please go about your day!” He yelled behind him as he continued down the road.

_ Wouldn't you rather be inside, where it is warm?  
And take a peek out the window, and envy the storm.  
I try and let the rain help me sleep, but the sounds on the roof just keep making me yawn. _

Much like the song that was taken from his ears as his headphones fell, the lines depicted the sky itself. Adam had thought it was clear. But it had become overcast with a distant rumbling of a brewing storm. He hopped from his bike and helped Dog out of the basket, who showed his gratitude with some enthusiastic wagging of his tail.

Dog already knew where it was that they were headed. Just off of S W Coast Path, between the road and the beach, was an array of land features that the Them had come to call their own. Rocky climbs in among the shelter of trees with a perfect view of the beach and far enough away from the road to make the noises of car engines null and void. The undergrowth was a mixture of entangling vines and soft sands, to both sink or catch those who were deemed unworthy to enter their Eden. At least, that’s what Adam would say. Never had they seen anyone else in their Eden and that, he would always say, was not a coincidence.

It was also not a coincidence that the coastal Eden was brimming with those who _ were _worthy on this dull day. Adam was the last to arrive, he quickly realised, as many heads turned in his direction. Pepper had been pushing leaves with a stick, chatting to Brian and Wensleydale who seemed to be inspecting an insect that had braved the climb up Brian’s sleeve to his shoulder. Daisy and Leona were sitting on a log and, much to Adam’s surprise, was accompanied with Chloe.

“No, no, it’s alright, we will wait for you, your highness.” Pepper sneered teasingly,  
“Thank you.” Adam jabbed back, watching as Dog began to leap across the undergrowth that lead out into harsher stones before a drop off to the beach. It wasn’t a long fall, just an inconvenient one, it was easier to get to Eden from the road then the beach.  
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Chloe?” Adam smiled at her. She looked worried until that moment where she seemed to remember where she was and what company she was in.  
“I’ve been living with Daisy for the past few days. Here to see my family. Here to… remember Ebby.”

All the smiles on that day were to be bittersweet. To be added into the construction of their Eden was what could only be described as a memorial to Ebby. Pepper had come up with the idea. That the news reports and posters weren’t doing Ebby justice. They had little doubt that there would be more, in time, but the Them didn’t want to wait. So Adam had organised a place in their Eden which would commemorate Ebby. Under a dip in a rock, hidden beneath prickly bushes, was enough space for something smaller than a shoe box. Adam had found a container that fit the size and covered it in black duct tape. Once waterproof and big enough to not budge out of place, the group had decided what they would put in the box. 

Pepper had polaroid photos with her, the original copies which she had produced in her photography class. Her task over the year was to capture the life of the school. Many photos had been taken of the group, just as many of Ebby herself. With little notes written on each, Pepper smiled and said the photocopied ones at home would do her just fine for grading. Adam had a few loose stones with him. Types of rocks that had meant very little to him until Ebby had ranted and raved about how interesting they were. The geology was why she had been in Broadchurch to begin with. Adam thought it was only fitting. 

Brian had a pen to return. He had borrowed it in an english class from Ebby despite having a 3-point-pen-policy she had discovered on a panel show. The policy included; 1) knowing where her pens were at any time, 2) to be hyper aware of any pens that had been lent out and 3) to take any opportunity within the bounds of a reasonable interpretation of the law to purloin or otherwise obtain pens. Brian had never given this particular pen back. It had been one of her favourites, decorated with paintings of waves and rocks. 

Wensleydale and Daisy had worked together to take a map in Broadchurch and mark locations where they had fond memories. A bridge where Ebby had gotten her shoe stuck in between the bars and it had fallen into the river below. A cafe Ebby had set up with a surprise birthday party for Leona. The council’s environmental program where she had dragged them along to a group lecture. Bus stops they had waited at where she had lent people change if need be. A reminder of the good she had done and the smiles she had caused.

The strength it took for Leona to approach the box, nevermind put her items in it, was enough to make her halt where she knelt. The sobs came in unpredictable and painful bouts of shuddering and gasping. With Daisy gently holding her shoulder, Leona took the paper from her bag. On thin paper lined with blue squares was scribbled over in black ink. Math book pages, detailing their first meeting. Their first conversation had been by passing notes back and forth. With a shaky breath Leona whispered,  
“I _ wish _ I could have helped… I- I let you down. I said I would always have your back. Where was I?”

The group knew that Leona would not have been able to prevent Ebby’s death. No one blamed her, only herself. Adam felt a swell of disappointment at the events that had unfolded. Almost as if he could have stopped them. But that disappointment sparked into something stronger. Rage. Resting a hand on Leona’s shoulder he made a promise.  
“We will make sure we know who did this. We will bring them the storm.”

Thunder crackled above their heads while Dog shredded at the undergrowth with a growl.

~ ~ ~

If Beth was the open ocean then the phone call she had recieved was the darkest depths. It had rung relentlessly and she had only just managed to pick it up in time. Dusting the charcoal from her hands, her skin was smudged in the evidence of her artwork. Attempts at portraiture were slowly beginning to more accurately mirror reality. It was the reason for the smile on her face. The words she heard from the other end of the line were why that smile fell.

“We are after Geoff Hadal in regard to the Phoebe Antre case. We can’t get ahold of him. Please notify us if---”

The rest didn’t matter. It was as if Beth was suddenly living her life from years before. Lies and secrets. It was hard not to assume the worst. Not as memories were flashing before her eyes. Running between held up cars. Her son’s body on the beach. Mark kissing another woman. The court case. Mark in hospital. It all flashed in front of her. It was happening again. Only, this time, it was with someone she thought she was safe with.

Geoff wasn’t like that- she had told herself. Geoff is different. Better. But the call changed all of that. Her phone buzzed.  
_ “ _ ** _My Better Half. 10:57am._ ** ** _  
_ ** _ I just called the station back, they told me they called you. Interview is at 4pm. I swear to you Beth, I’ll explain everything to you… it isn’t as it seems.” _

Pacing through her house with her head clasped in her hands, Beth could only do her best not to lose her breath. Maybe, she considered, passing out would be easier. As she walked by her office table, decorated with broken pieces of charcoal and many art drafts- her eyes fell on the portrait of Geoff. She barely heard the door knock.

Out of anger, in the tide-like swell of furiousness, she clasped the paper in her hands and shredded it until it fell to the floor in pieces. Much like her heart.  
  


~ ~ ~

“And when did this call come in?!” Ellie demanded, the detective following her with great difficulty as she wound through the office to her desks.  
“About half an hour ago, Sir.” The young man by the name of Flynn bumped into Newton who dropped his coffee on the powerboard he was working on. With a bright spark and a hiss of electricity, the lights went out.  
“I’ll fix it!” Newt had declared.

Ellie had been checking on alibis and doing her best to clear names. Olly, Gabriel, Newton, Anathema and Erik were all seen in the bar on the night of the murder. But it didn’t cover them for the whole night. Ellie knew the interview with Geoff was happening as she spoke. _ Well _, as the detective spoke to her.

“And they said?”  
“Well.” He looked at the notepad in his hand. “At around 10 this morning, a jogger was off the coast walking path. She stumbled across what looked like dried blood and called it in--”  
“Wait, where on the coast?” Ellie tilted her head, sorting through some papers on her desk.  
“Uhhh there is a small cluster of trees just before the cliff drop off. Half-way between here and Eype Beach. There was a patrol car nearby who were first on scene. They believe it is a potential murder scene.”

Ellie took a deep breath. Things were moving too slowly and too quickly at the same time. She felt impatient yet, as if she were falling behind.  
“Thank you for this. Hardy, Fell and I will be there ASAP.”  
“Yes Sir.” He nodded, his dark eyes mirroring his ebony skin. He was a good worker, one of Ellie's best   
“And Aeby?” Miller called after him.  
“Yes, Sir?”  
“Avoid going on any early morning jogs. Save yourself the trouble.”

Aeby huffed a laugh,  
"My partner is a bit outdoorsy, I'll try and keep him outta trouble."  
Ellie couldn't help but consider just how one could effectively stay out of trouble. She had tried her whole life, besides the aspects of her work, and still had wound up in court for a murder. A murder commited by her ex husband. Aeby and his husband Damery had been living in Broadchurch for as long as Ellie could remember. Aeby, a forensic anthropologist, and Damery, a paramedic. The two had met through work. Been married for a year. Seemingly and, with some envy, Ellie recognised they both had stayed out of trouble. 

Speaking of trouble, Alec and Fell weren’t in Alec’s office. Ellie scoffed, it was almost like babysitting the two of them. She had a suspicion of where they were, however. Fell had become quite fond of a particular park bench outside the station. Not the most beautiful of views but he was fond of it regardless. And Alec; fond of joining him.

~ ~ ~

"It is currently 1606 hours on May 23, 2019. In charge D. I Alec Hardy along with D.S. Ellie Miller and Dr. A. Z. Fell. Located at the Broadchurch Police Station in West Dorset. This is for case number 2019-666. This is an interview with a person of interest; Geoff Hadal. Allow me ask... it’s G-E-O-F-F and H-A-D-A-L?”

Geoff's eyes were darkened and downcast. Bags under his eyes told Alec that he hadn't been sleeping. And, if he were to be involved, it wouldn't be a surprise as to why he was so exhausted. The usual room brightening smile and picture perfect green eyes were clouded over. Refined jaw clenched, 

"Yes." He sounded almost angry. Hands rested clenched on top of the table.  
"Now do you know why you've been called in to speak with us today?"  
Geoff bit his bottom lip. For a moment Alec considered that he was going to give them the silent treatment. Especially considering the glare that Ellie was giving him. After silence and eye avoidance he huffed,

"Because I own the cottage on the dirt road that forks off of Morbae Grove."  
"And why is that house of interest to us?"  
"Because it was where they found the body of Phoebe Antre… isn't it?"  
That hadn't been public news. The Pymore area had been disclosed but nothing much more than that.  
"You're right, Mr. Hadal. Tell me. Where were you on May 18th 2019? You weren't on the astronomical society's annual getaway?"  
"I wasn't. Instead, I was home with Beth. She can confirm, I was there."  
"Any idea why a body appears in your house recently after purchasing it?" Alec huffed.  
"Look I just… I bought the house from Susan because it's in a dark spot. Figured I could build my own observatory in it. Not much light pollution out that way. She was desperate for a buyer, I was desperate for a place where I could image the stars."  
Fell made some notes. Ellie tried her best to not feel so personally hurt by any of it.

"What was your previous marriage like?" Alec certainly knew how to freeze him in his tracks. Geoff leant forward in a territorial manner.  
"What correlation does that h--"  
"Please." Fell smiled charmingly, he didn't know what Alec's plan was but he trusted him enough to help, "we mean no harm in asking, Mr. Hadal. We just need to tick some boxes and to tie loose ends."  
"You might not mean much harm," Geoff's eyes were like knives the second they moved to Alec, "not as sure about _ him _ ."  
"For the tape, Mr. Hadal is currently looking at me as if I've skinned his cat--"  
"Hardy." Ellie snapped at him before she looked at Geoff with pleading eyes, "it's to clear your name, for your daughter, for Beth..."

That hit him enough to talk. 

"The divorce was messy. I don't actually see my daughter anymore. A choice of her mother's, not of her own. What relevance does this have to the case?"  
"Your daughter. What's her name?" Fell asked, not knowing the answer. Ellie realised she didn’t know either. She couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets he had been harbouring.  
"Leona. Leona Hadal.”

Fell brightened up the second the name was said. After all, he had spoken to Leona after their interview.  
"She was close friends with Ebby, was she not?"  
"She was." Geoff ground his teeth again.  
"Have you had any contact with Leona?" Ellie asked, “has Beth?”  
"I called to ask how she was. She wanted to see me. Her mother had other ideas. And no, Beth hasn’t..."  
"And how was she?" Fell asked out of his own caring curiosity.  
"Heartbroken. She's lost a friend. One of her best. What’s she supposed to do with that?" 

There was no answers. Never had a guidebook been written for such a tragedy.  
“So you had no anger towards Ebby?”  
There was almost a scoff,  
“No? Why would I? Barely met her.”  
“Because Leona was closer to Ebby then to you.” Alec was much too blunt. Catching Fell’s eye made him adjust himself in his seat. He looked almost apologetic, “I just mean that… it would be understandable for anyone to hold resentment against people who some may _ feel _ are replacing them.”  
“Would have to mean I’d be angry at your daughter too, Hardy.” Geoff cocked his head, suddenly bitter, “and the Them. I’ve never been angry at Leona’s friends for being close to her. Only ever grateful. They’re doing more than I have the ability to do. I’m _ thankful _. And when Ebby is farewelled properly, with her own headstone, I will visit to thank her myself.”

~ ~ ~

“And we have a match!”  
Ellie jumped in her seat,  
“Good God, Fell.” She clutched where her heart was thudding, “some warning next time.”  
“Sorry my dear, I just--” he moved to quickly sit next to her, “we have a match!”  
He had the proudest look in his eyes and it didn’t dull when Ellie said,  
“So you’ve said…”

The papers were scattered over her desk in a fraction of second. Images, comparative and analytical.  
“We have our murder weapon…” Fell was nearly beaming. “The crossbow that was reported yesterday, we believe it is what killed Phoebe. We knew it wasn’t a gunshot. No stippling. No tattooing. Yet, there was an abrasion collar and that matches with the arrowhead. We are looking into potential owners or manufacturers. Fingerprints look minimal, but it has only been beneath the water for about two days. I believe they’re using cyanoacrylate to try and see it any better...”  
"Thanks Fell. That's fantastic news."

He grimaced for a second.  
"We're going to apprehend this felon, right?"  
Ellie ducked her head to hide the little laugh on her lips. Fell's linguistics almost always made her chuckle.  
"Yes. I believe you and Aeby have your briefing soon?"  
Fell clapped his hands together.  
"Certainly do."

Aeby, being an anthropologist and Fell, being an expert in religious themes in forensic pathology was an almost perfect team. Ellie shook her head with a smile as Fell promptly left her desk with his file in hand. 

Ellie leant over to Alec's shoulder,  
"What's that?" She hadn't _ meant _ to see the picture in his wallet, just happened to catch it out of the corner of her eye.  
"Uhhhh." Alec didn't answer with a proper sentence. A few sputtered syllables and misplaced run-ons. "A star. It's a photo of a star."  
"Mhm yes. I can see that much. Why's it covering your ID? Gotta be something important."  
Alec nearly groaned at how well Ellie could pick up his habits.  
"Fell gave me the photo." The mumble was barely audible.  
"He, wait, what? Lemme see." She took the wallet without asking for it. She recognised the photo almost immediately. "This is the photo he was given while we were visiting the astronomical society."  
"Mhm."  
"And he gave it to you over dinner?"  
"Yep."  
"Oh, Hardy, Sir." Ellie couldn't contain her smile, "he fancies you."  
"Oh, Miller--" he scoffed, looking offended. Eyebrows furrowed in frustration, "--that is--- just so-- childish and--"

"Attention everyone please." Fell requested of the mumbling crowd. Alec turned his head.  
"Just following every order of his, aye?" Ellie chuckled lightly.  
"Shut it Miller."  
It was so tempting to push his further. Alec didn't last long being confronted with such issues. But with a clearing of his throat, Fell silenced the room.

“Hello everyone. I’m sure by now you know me. I’m Dr. A. Z. Fell and this is Detective Aeby. This briefing today will be focusing on the nature of this truly awful crime. The reason we have worked on this together is that I have a history in religious statements in crimes. Aeby here has a history in anthropology and all that it entails. Go ahead Aeby.”  
Nervously taking a step forward, he gave a nod to the team listening with noteapds at the ready.  
“Anthropology and religion do have strong ties. Most of which are positive in nature and my heart truly goes out to those with faith. This was not what a majority act on or even consider within their faith. The case has many key factors of beliefs which most notably was apotheosis, not the practise of cults, which Fell and I realised in recent days during analysis. There are also hints of necromancy in the sacrificial ritualistic nature of the scene itself.”  
“We originally considered a cult force because of Broadchurch’s history with cult going-ons. The Chattering Order of St Beryl was here many years ago. We found an old relative of one of the members, a woman by the name of Mary Loquacious. She has given enough proof to deem the cult disbanded.”  
Alec spoke up to interrupt fell,  
“Disbanded, burnt in a hospital fire. Same thing.” Fell pressed his lips together tightly, frowning a little at Alec who only happily smiled back. “But please elaborate on why this is suddenly not cult interest? And apo..a...the...eisis?”  
“ _ Apotheosis _ . The notion of a person being god-like. We think the murderer is projecting that image on themselves.” Aeby seemed to have his nerves contained.  
“Lots of the passages were about authority.” Fell concluded, “he thinks he is more than a human. That he deserves a sacrifice, in the least. And, well, when it wasn’t handed to him…” 

The room was washed over in fearful silence. Only for a moment or so before Alec clapped and told everyone to get back to work. Ellie did not move though. She had a sinking feeling but it wasn’t about the cult findings. It had been about something that Geoff had said, something that connected with the analysis of the crossbow. Susan had been offering the house for a while. For blackmail. 

No, it wasn't Susan that worried Ellie. It was her son. Nigel. Ellie knew there was something in the past that was calling out for. She was flipping through old case notes before she knew it. Danny’s case was never one she had ever imagined opening again. It was meant to be over. But as she filed through lodged transcripts she came across what she was looking for. An old interview of Susan’s where she had tried to convict Nigel of Danny’s murder. Across the lines in blotchy ink was the phrase,

_ “He may be my son but I ain’t keeping his secrets. He ain’t never been a saint. Weird bastard keeps a crossbow in his van. Was gonna shoot my dog with it, he was. Disgraceful” _

~ ~ ~

“What did we get from the scene?” Alec had asked. Impatient to know. Their visit had been delayed until the following day.   
“Fingerprints. Blood. Sand. Which is nothing but a pain, mind you. Course, rough, irritating, gets---”  
“Let’s start from there then, the fingerprints?” Alec butted in,  
“Don’t match any on the database. _ However _, there is a recurring missing section of the print.” Brian lay the diagrams out in front of them, “the prints look to be ulnar loops, with matching bifurcation here, here and here. But what makes these prints interesting is this large absence of any ridges. Usually looking for minute imperfections is the last step but, this eyesore has been bugging me. The majority of prints we got out of the scene were latent but two were patent in blood. Which has since been found to be Ebby’s. The blood prints have been key to sketching what we believe the suspect’s hands look like.”

Ellie couldn’t help but flinch slightly at the sketch in all of its gruesome details. Every fingertip was obstructed by vicious scars of similar patterns.  
“This technique of attempting to evade authority started way back in 1934, I believe. With John Dillinger who had a surgeon cut his fingertips and pour acid into them. Fingerprints will grow back unless the epidermis layer has been damaged. But even then, it leaves a very unique scar. Some people bite the skin off their fingers once they’ve been put under arrest. Others have sown their fingers to smooth parts of skin in an attempt to graph skin without ridges. Good news is, it’s _ never _ worked. None of them.”  
“So, what, people splash out on getting surgically altered prints and it doesn’t work?” Fell swallowed harshly. Strange that being a pathologist hadn’t made him numb to the gritty realities of crime.  
“Hit the nail on the head. However, it does cost less to stick your hand in a fire. That’s been tried too. So, if anything, there is still hope of identification with these scars for this case.”  
“Not the preference but it’ll do aye?” Alec sniffed as his eyes watched with a cold dead stare. “Good work Brian, keep it up.”  
Surprised joy washed over his face.  
“Thank you, Sir. The blood reports have just been sent to you as well. It’s mostly Ebby’s but with a mix of another that we can’t ID. That one was strangely identified to be carrying pathogens to a variety of diseases. We think the reading is wrong and we are double checking as we speak. Shouldn’t be too long.”

Brian nodded with a joy Alec had not seen from him. An account of the compliment, he assumed.  
“Alec, dear-” the words from Fell made Alec jump, Ellie raised an eyebrow at the phrasing, “why look so worried?”  
“The question is why _ wouldn’t _ I? The longer we take, the greater chance that--?”  
“What? Our foul fiend begins to a cemetery? And unlicensed, at that?!”  
"Yes." Alec looked him directly in the eye, "that's exact;y what I'm afraid of. Then that blood is on my hands."  
Fell hesitated. Wondering. Then he outstretched his hand and laced his fingers between Alec's,  
"Darling boy. There will be no unlicensed cemeteries. Your hands are perfectly clean."

He pressed the softest kiss to Alec's battered knuckles.

~ ~ ~

When Alec got home that evening, he was tossing mail out onto the desk until he saw his name in meticulous cursive font across a pastel blue letter. His nose was instantly scrunched up.

_ ...you are cordially invited to the wedding of _ _  
_ _ Maggie Radcliffe and Jocelyn Knight _ _  
_ _ Saturday, June 22nd, 2019 _ _  
_ _ 7o’clock in the evening _ _  
_ _ Bay viewing point _ _  
_ _ Broadchurch _ _  
_ _ reception to follow... _

  
Alec took a long breath filled with pre-emptive regret. The few dials that rung sent a flare of fear through him. He hated phone calls. As if the universe ignored his prayer of hoping to reach voicemail, the phone was answered.  
“Hi Maggie. It’s ahh Hardy, uhh A-Alec… Thanks for the invite, I’ll be sure to be there. Just here to ask… can I bring a plus one?... yeah? Outstanding, thanks. You won’t regret it… he goes by A. Z. Fell. Yeah, yeah, uhh a colleague…” Alec paused before letting out a huff of eventual compliance, “he really is lovely.”

~ ~ ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iM tryiNg tO bE conSistEnt IstG  
Who are yall suspecting the most? Im curious.  
its 2am and i am exhausted  
thank you for sticking around! :D  
Also, the song Adam is listening to on the bike is Staying Inside by Those who Dream  
Also also the 3 point pen system is by David Mitchell


	7. A Plague of Bubonic Proportions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end draws near for the case. But it is known by those who shouldn't.

~ ~ ~

The information Olly had sent to Alec about The Four-so-called-Horsemen was beyond expectation. For a pain in the ass, Olly was very good at his job. Spared no detail. He had clearly been very dedicated to helping Ebby in whatever way he could. The Horsemen turned out to be much more than just the four of them. It was a biker group with an unknown number of members. Olly had been trying to do research on how to join or where meetings were held but alas the Horsemen seemed to be entirely secret. 

The Four Horsemen now had names to match the titles. First and last. Yet, every picture taken of any of them was distorted in someway. The database had no records of them either. No emergency contacts, no first of kin, nothing that gave them any solid direction. They seemed to be ghosts. Olly had even provided records of emails between himself and Ebby. A kind gesture, although unnecessary as they had her phone in custody. The emails had already been printed and added to the file. 

_ To: Olly Stevens _ _  
_ _ From: Phoebe Antre _ _  
_ _ Topic: Help _

_ Dear Mr. Stevens, _ _  
_ _ I'd like to thank you for the help you gave me today. My head wasn't on straight. I appreciate your kindness. I imagine there is already information on the Four Horsemen out there. The teachers, I mean. Strange for them to show up this year, all four of them, and make my life a living hell. They've scared some supernatural believes into me, I swear. I will be alright, thank you again. _

_ -Phoebe A. _

_ To: Phoebe Antre _ _  
_ _ From: Olly Stevens _ _  
_ _ Topic: Re: Help _

_ Hey Phoebe. No need for the Mr. Stevens. It's just Olly :) _ _  
_ _ Also no need to thank me, just doing what anyone decent would. What do you mean by, scared some supernatural beliefs into you? Also, do you have any direct support at the school who knows about this? _

_ To: Olly Stevens _ _  
_ _ From: Phoebe Antre _ _  
_ _ Topic: Re: Help _

_ I have Leona. My best friend. And some others. That's support, right? I've spoken to Mr. Smith about it. And his assistant teacher, Mr. Tennyson. They're okay for help. _

_ I've never believed in the supernatural. But whenever I was around any of the Four I just started to see things. Mrs. Zugiberg, her eyes would sometimes just bleed. It's strange I know. Crazy, even. Forspillan would do the same but… with this weird black liquid. They didn't talk much and it would happen sporadically. The other two either looked starved or like a skeleton. I swear Olly, I've never done drugs in my life. Barely drink. These hallucinations, I think, have been so off-putting. Can't sleep. _

_ To: Phoebe Antre _ _  
_ _ From: Olly Stevens _ _  
_ _ Topic: Re: Help _

_ Sounds serious. If you could see a doctor? Something along those lines? I've been doing research on the teachers over the past few days. Can't find much, they're almost ghosts. _

_ To: Olly Stevens _ _  
_ _ From: Phoebe Antre _ _  
_ _ Topic: Re: Help _

_ No, not ghosts. I'd prefer ghosts. _

Fell looked up from his papers. They were nearly stacked on the grass around him. Held down by rocks and pens.  
"Alec. Did Phoebe's diary have any mention of ghosts? Did she feel as if she was haunted?"  
Alec, who was seated on the bench, frowned down at Fell briefly before searching for the diary.  
"If my memory serves me, she did write something about ghosts…” The flicking of papers gave Fell a distinct distraction. He watched Alec look through the files. He really was gorgeous like this. Even with the sullen look on his face and the wind blowing at his hair into the strangest of positions. “Ah. Here.”  
The paper that Fell was handed had words he would never forget. In messy, almost distraught handwriting was a sentence that screamed for so much help.

_ If there truly are ghosts, please speak to me… just so that I don’t feel this alone. _

A crushing weight rested on Fell’s shoulders as soon as he read them. A tear simmerd, brimmed and tumbled. Fell wasn’t a crier, well, he told himself he wasn’t. In truth, there were a great many things that could bring Fell to tears. Gardens brimming with lush fruits. Second hand book shops. Strawberry ice blocks overlooking a lake. Sunrises reflecting off rivers. Fixing people’s bikes. Most of these, however, relished the joys of life and its mortality. This was different.

“Dinnae of what relevance it…” Alec trailed off, noticing the lone tear rolling down Fell’s cheek. It was a strange instinct to dash his thumb out and catch the tear before it fell any further. But Alec did it regardless, “Fell_ ? _ ”  
There was worry beneath the thick accent. Genuine concerned muffled by confusion as to why that concern was thundering in his chest. Alec didn’t often feel so strongly. Fell sniffed, faking a brief smile. Neither of them could ignore the way Fell leant into Alec’s hand, palm outstretching to cup his cheek. Fell did not have to explain why he was crying, Alec knew. Alec knew that Fell had care for everything that Ebby was and would mourn everything she could have been. It was a powerful thing; to mourn that which no longer had a chance of happening. 

Alec cleared his throat and leant down to Fell. It was not the most convenient of places; with Alec on the bench and Fell on the ground. Papers and files threaded between them. Taking a sharp breath, just enough to find his nerve, Alec nuzzled his nose into Fell’s hair. It was much softer than he had expected but he didn’t allow it to distract him from what he was going to say. His voice stammered and he stuttered over syllables. But he recalled the phrase to the best of his memory.  
“ _ Aziraphale… _ just because the sky is dark, doesnae mean there's evil about. Bad things happen, but that doesnae make everything bad. Dinnae allow it to win."

~ ~ ~

Pepper had not expected to stumble across Adam by the boardwalk. Adam tended to avoid the more public spaces. He and Dog would occasionally get in trouble with people who did not understand Adam’s world. They tended to argue against secret tunnels and underwater monsters. Most knew little about nuclear power. Others said Atlanta was a myth. All blind fools in Adam’s eyes. So he tended to avoid such areas. Besides, the drop of cliffs made it easy to see if the Kraken would rise from the water. Adam said he wasn’t fond of the idea. Cool, yes, just not convenient. He had important things to do, like walking Dog or fixing his bike. Throwing paper planes near the general direction of (but for legal reasons never _ at _) Neighbourhood Watch. Adam had no time for silly sea beasts.

He sat on the boardwalk just by the drop off. Legs dangling over the edge, toes sweeping the sand. Dog sat in the shade of it, curled up and snoring.  
“What are you doing here” Pepper cocked her head, watching Adam fiddle with what looked like a stick. He quickly swiped at it with what Pepper realised to be a knife,  
“Our Eden has been closed.” He huffed.  
“What?!” She exclaimed.  
“Crime scene. Or somethin’. Dunno.” He sounded purely bitter.

“So why are you sharpening a stick?”  
“I’m making a stake.”  
“Why?” Pepper sat down beside him, her feet unable to reach the sand. Not even for a second had he looked her way. He was hypnotised by the stick and its shape. Fury in his eyes.  
“I’m going to avenge Ebby.”  
“With a stake? Why a stake? You are sharpening it with a knife. _ Surely _ that is more useful.” Pepper made a face. Adam wasn’t _ really _ going to seek vengeance, Pepper knew that. But talking about it helped. Adam tended to fixate on things and sometimes, somehow, they ended up happening.  
“Might have been a witch.” Adam shrugged, finally giving her a glance.  
“But witches were killed _ on burning stakes _ . Not _ with _ stakes. That’s vampires.”  
“Might have been a vampire.” He said with identical tone.  
“Then what if it’s a werewolf?”  
“The knife is silver.” He lifted it to show her, glinting in the faint midday sun. It was overcast, as it had been for a while.  
“So you’ll use a stick for the witch or vampire. But the knife if it’s a werewolf?”  
“It’s a stake. Not a stick.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, watching the people on the beach. Children squealing as they got their feet wet. Adults lying back on towels which were just too short. Umbrellas were few on such a dark day.  
“And what if it was just a person?” Pepper asked out of pure curiosity.  
“Can’t have been.” Adam rejected the idea in an instant.  
“Why?”  
Then he looked up at her. His eyes still blazing but were suppressing sadness. Vulnerability lingered there. He was much more upset then he had been showing.  
“Normal people aren’t that evil. They _ can’t _be… right?” 

His eyes pleaded just as much as his tone.

~ ~ ~

"If this is about that fucken' house, Hardy, I swear I'll rip your---"  
"Nigel. Please." Ellie snapped before he could even finish the sentence. Alec raised his eyebrows and swiped his tongue over his lower lip as he suppressed a laugh.  
"Nae, lad, this isn't about the house."  
"Because I told you I don't own the bloody thing. It was sold---"  
"Yes. And we have found and interviewed the buyer. That checks out." Ellie's patience was being tested.  
"Fuck ya need me for then?"  
"This." Alec slides a laminated piece of paper over to Nigel. For the first time since the interview started, he was speechless. "For the tape, I'm showing Mr. Carter a picture evidence number 666-31… look familiar?"

One time when Alec had been driving home, a deer had run in the way of his car. Alec would never forget the fear in its eyes. Well, he would say deer, it was truly a woman on a bicycle. Regardless of the details, those eyes has been fearful. Nigel mirrored that memory.  
"No. No clue." He stammered, "dunno what that is."  
"Is that right?" Ellie tilted her head in an almost demeaning manner, "Susan Wright depicted you with this exact crossbow. Mark Latimer confirmed the same thing during Danny's case. You can't buy one of these here in Broadchurch… so unless by some miracle of a chance that someone else has this exact same…"

"Fine. Yes. It's mine. It was stolen from my van. Told Becca about it… a day before the body of the girl was found."  
"Now why would we believe that?" Alec pressed his lips together tightly. A bead of sweat tumbled down Nigel's temple.  
"Because Ebby was a good kid. And if you've spoken to Becca then you know Ebby worked for her briefly. I helped her out with getting that job."  
"Why would you have done that?"  
"Good friends with Stephanie Hadal. Was ‘round her place when Ebby was over. Leona, Steph’s daughter, had just gotten a job. It was the topic of conversation. Figured I’d lend a hand.”

“Why did you lie about it being yours?” Ellie asked, Nigel rubbed his head in stress.  
“Don’t look to good aye? My best guess, that killed her, didn’t it..? Don’t fuckn’ want it back.”  
“Wasn’t offering it.” Alec looked much too smug. “We’ll be checking up on all this Mr. Carter. Is there anything you want to tell us before you leave? No? Alright, well, by the time of my watch...”

Ellie watched Nigel carefully as Alec concluded the interview. His alabi still matched up, it had been checked when they had found out the house was in his name. Which only left them with an unknown thief and a murder weapon with broken prints. Square one was much too familiar.

  
  


~ ~ ~

The crime scene was, without a doubt, the place where Phoebe had been killed. Of course it hadn't been called until the blood had been run for analysis and confirmed a match. Until then, it was a schedule of photographing and noting. Alec, Ellie and Fell had been asked to the scene. The landscape seemed to sweep downwards through the clusters of trees. As they thinned out, there was a drop off to a rocky decline. The drop off itself was about the height of an average man but the cliffs slowly scaled down from there. Stains of blood were yet to be cleaned.  
“Enough for a body to be drained…” Fell grimaced painfully, “that’s a ritualistic undertone without a doubt.”  
"This area is... _huge..." _Ellie exclaimed in a soft breath. "Terrible things have happened here..."  
Fell turned to notice an observer he hadn’t expected.  
“Hello kind Sir. What are you doing here?”

Adam was standing as close as he could possibly stand. The crime scene tape was pressed up against his beige jacket. Fell stood on the other side of the tape from him but he noticed an apple in one of Adam’s hands and a stick in the other. Adam’s gaze looked much further past Fell and into the trees.  
“That’s our Eden.” His stoic tone was enough to make Fell take half a step back.  
“Pardon?” Fell’s niceties were not an act. He watched with caring eyes as Adam raised the apple to his mouth and took a bite backed with rage.  
“You’ve taped up our Eden.”  
“Oh…” Fell put the pieces together, “the burrow? With the chair, throne, and…”  
“Dr. Fell I need you to find who did this.” Lightning struck overhead, “they’ve tainted our Eden.” Thunder crackled and roared, “ _ they’ve killed our friend. _” In Adam’s clenched fists, the apple caved in. Remnants of it fell to the ground in a small puddle of liquid. The world almost seemed to shake. 

~ ~ ~

The last thing Chloe had expected to hear when she took out her earphones was yelling. It had been peaceful, a walk through ankle high grass that glimmered with dew like emeralds. The song sung in phrases of relatable beauty as the rain misted through the air and came to settle lightly on her skin.

_ I don't feel lonely, I just want to escape. _ _  
_ _ So I hide in the shelter, but I know, but I know, but I know. _ _  
_ _ Does it feel alright. When you're left out in the rain? _

Her house had been just in sight. It was still hers. After all that had happened, every moment of it, she had been living there. Sleeping in that bed. Not sleeping at all. Sat by the bedside, her knees by her chin, huddled into the darkest corner of the room. With her own renegade sobs being the only noise she could hear. It was still her home. No matter where she studied, no matter where she was renting. Those bricks were the foundation of who she was.

So when she heard the yelling, she started running. 

Through the front door and out to the backyard in an instant, Chloe didn’t let anything get in her way. The smashing of glass hadn’t been her either. Geoff stood up against the back wall with his hands out and open. A fraction of a surrender in the gesture. Beth stood among broken glass, her eyes redder than crimson. Streaks of glistening tears lined her face. As did Geoff’s.

It all came to a standstill when Chloe ran through that door and stood to take in the scene.  
“C-chloe?!” If Beth had stopped crying, it was starting again within the instant. “What are you doing here?!”   
The glass did not matter. It was a losing battle; the shards against Beth’s soles. There was fragments imbedded and drawing blood within the instant. It didn’t stop the desperate dash to her daughter. The force of the embrace knocked the wind out of Chloe and Beth began sobbing into her neck. 

“What’s goin’ on here mum?” She managed to ask, eyes teary but staring dead at Geoff, “did he hurt you?”  
“N-no. Well, not physically. I dropped the glass, I--” Beth stammered before pulling herself back. Trailing a loose strand of hair behind Chloe’s ear, her mother muttered, “he had to have a police interview, I---”  
“You fuckin’ what?!” Chloe exclaimed, stepping into the shards,  
“I owned the house. I was trying to explain that the murder was on the _ saturday _ . I was here. It was sunday night that I was out---”  
“It’s okay, it’s…” Beth took a deep shuddering breath. “Really it just… it just brings back bad memories. He didn’t do anything, I know that it just…”  
“Is hard to trust anymore.” Chloe finished Beth’s sentence, looking over her shoulder to Geoff once more and then back to her mother’s eyes. Beth nodded, knowing Chloe had missed Geoff. 

With Beth’s blessing, Chloe hugged Geoff with just as much verocious care. Desperate and human.  
“What are you doing here kiddo?!” He asked, teal eyes confused.  
“Crim class spoke about Phoebe. Had to come here. Had to see you and had to say goodbye…”  
“You two were friends, right?” Geoff asked as Chloe and himself took awkward steps through the shards. “Clo, I’m _ so _ sorry. I can’t even imagi---”  
“Leona was there too.” That made Geoff stop still even if it meant glass lodge itself into his flesh, “she said her goodbyes. Been with her the past few days. She loved Ebby, was closer to her than any of us were. Geoff, she’s making her peace. You must be worried.”  
“Course.” He rubbed a tear before it fell, “of course I am. God it’s just, good to see you Clo.”

Through tear stained eyes, Beth joined them in their hug. Chloe realised amongst the warmth of it that it was exactly what she needed. This was no luxury, it was a necessity. 

~ ~ ~

"We have crossed out the names of a fair number of people but I feel as if… we are looking in the wrong direction." Alec was hunched over his desk. It was late in the evening, Ellie and Fell stood by him with better posture. Ellie's was faltering, however. She was tired. They all were.  
"Where else should we look then?" She yawned.  
"Adam mentioned the four horsemen, the teachers who were fired and have since gone missing. Could it be one of them?”

"Wait when did they go missing?" Ellie perked up, not having known.  
"A few days before Ebby was even killed. They were seen riding out if Broadchurch on their motorbikes. Haven't been seen since. Not exactly missing but, they're nearly impossible to contact. Is there a chance it was them?"  
“It's possible, but…” Fell looked at all the notes he had on his desk. They spoke to him. He was missing something. It wasn’t that simple. “... _ there was five--- wait no--- four of them...” _

“Pardon?”  
“During the interview, Olly said he _ thought _ there were four of them. There are. But there _ is _ a fifth.”  
“How do you know?”  
“Wait let me just…” he shuffled through his papers, “War: Carmine Zugiber, english teacher, focused on journalism and specifically war correspondence.  
Famine: Raven Sable, health and nutrition teacher, also a diet advisor.  
Pollution: Blanc ‘Chalky’ Forspillan, science teacher, environmental adviser of the school.  
Death: Azrael Hryre, health teacher, known for his ownership of a local biker gang. Which, funnily enough, is called The Horsemen.”

It was a lot of words and names all at once. Alec felt as if he were following.  
“But… the wounds don’t match up to _ any _ of the horsemen’s lore. The Red horse of War was known for a sword. The Black horse, Famine, only ever wielded measuring scales. Never a weapon. Death has the Pale horse, carried the scythe of death. Pollution and the White horse… oh… _ oh!” _ _  
_ He shot upwards in his seat,  
“As far as we know, the Four Horsemen don’t exactly line up to the case. But the fifth!? The fifth does!”  
“Fell. Fell. Breathe." Ellie held her hands up as if in surrender, "what on God’s green earth are you talking about?”

“Pollution! The Pale horse. That horse used to be ridden by Pestilence! And Pestilence used to wield a bow. Said to have arrows tipped with every disease known to man. Fatal when shot--”  
“-- in the heart.” Alec put it together, “just like Ebby.”  
Fell took some steps back from the mess of a desk. Papers scattered and folded, in odd piles and uneven categories.  
“Someone is trying to bring back the name of Pestilence,” Fell was almost shaking, "it _ is _ lost apotheosis, Aeby was right. Whoever this is feels as if they've lost their convoluted version of divine power."

"We've seen this kind of thing before." Ellie commented, her recollection of case studies coming to mind, "not anything _ like _ this, but, the same motive. A loss of a job. People have been killed after firing someone. Domenic Micheli, Jeffery Johnson, Jessica Dayton… you tie an identity to a workplace, that identity can be lost just as easily as the job."  
"Wait-- Brian said the unknown blood source at the crime scene was laced with diseases. Fell. I think you're right." Alec looked up at him. Fell looked worried by his own discovery. There was some pride there. 

"I promised you Alec, my dear, no more bodies by the hand of this killer. No more deaths by the hand of Pestilence."  
Somehow, against all odds, that was enough for Alec.

~ ~ ~

Leona was counting cracks in the ceiling. It was like counting sheep, only seemingly endless and a lot trickier. She couldn’t sleep. The world was begging her to stay awake for God knows what reason. There was a creak and moan from her empty house as winds picked up and drove rain into the window. She groaned and sat up. Walking to her desk and flicking a page of her book, willing that the reading would make her night go faster. Her mother was yet to return from work and Leona could not sleep until then. Although ink dipped in and out as her eyelids became heavier. Leona jolted awoke to the sound of a muffed cough.

Turning quickly, it was only the glinting of the moonlight that let her eye catch the tip of the arrowhead among the shadows. 

~ ~ ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow that was,,, quicker then i expected.  
yall leaving me feedback warms my heart btw, thank you!  
also upped the scott accent


	8. Acres of Flesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fifth is found and loose ties have to be severed.

~ ~ ~

Ellie stared at the ceiling with the blankest of eyes. The wall clock ticked on relentlessly with the clicking of machinery. It didn’t help Ellie with the concept of time. If anything, the concept seemed to be slipping through her fingers like the finest sand by the cliffs where Ellie held the memory of corpses. Discolored fingers limp against the shore, with salt and sand buried under nails. Eyes open and absent, waiting for flies to find them. 

_ 12:03am _

Seconds passed and yet with every tick the mississippis seemed to only grow longer. She knew Tom was in the next room over. She had been keeping a close eye, and ear, on him. An understatement, considering the past few years. Ellie wondered if his night was just as restless. There was something wrong with the night, Ellie could  _ feel  _ it. There was an eerie stillness to air. The quiet of the neighbourhood. She swore a wail echoed the streets of the rainy night.  _ Something was very wrong. _

~ ~ ~

The scream that left Leona’s mouth was quickly muffled by a hand of thorn-like nails and damaged fingerprints.    
"Shut it. Or you'll be dead in a second."    
Leona's rapid breathing only pushed the arrow head further into her skin. Pressed against where her heart was, she could only shudder and struggle to breathe.    
"Now you listen." The voice rang familiar but she couldn't put her finger on where from. “It is said that he who is far off shall die of the Pestilence. But you  _ just had  _ to talk…  _ didn’t you? _ You won’t die far off like you were meant to. Today, again, Pestilence kills by hand.”

Leona stopped struggling. Fear threaded through her skin like bad stitching. Chills ran down every millimeter of her flesh. She struggled to stand, adrenaline reaching her legs and knees felt as if they were going to buckle beneath her. Blood beaded where the tip of the arrow dug at her skin. The assaliant’s arm was wrapped around her throat, the other holding the weapon to her heart. Panic had set into Leona’s bones. A million words run through her head but the sentence struggled to make it into the air,   
“W… who are you?” Her voice was numb in terror, “did…  _ oh- oh god _ … did you kill Ebby?”

The world came to a standstill. The roads empty of any cars or late night wanderers. The wind itself almost seemed to stop. Her curtains seemed to still as the draft withdrew from the room. Silent, limp almost. Mirroring the dead.   
“The girl? Young, studied rocks of all things? Yes I killed her. You see, God has obstructed my ways with blocks of stones since the Four abandoned me; she has made my paths crooked…” Leona listened to him ramble without saying a word. Barely uttering a breath, “and Phoebe came here to study just that. Stones. She and the Lord must have been working together. Against me. I was disregarded by the Four and then… the Lord herself. Phoebe  _ had  _ to die.”

Leona’s breathing was failing her, her mouth open in a silent scream.    
“W-was it worth it?” She spat as the grip around her throat got tighter, “did killing her clear the path?”   
“The Lord shall make the pestilence cleave unto thee, until he have consumed thee from off the land, whither thou goest to possess it…” He hissed, twisting the arrowhead. Leona gaped and shortly inhaled at the pain that rushed at her skin, “... and the disease which takes men in the dark, or of the destruction which makes waste when the sun is high. I swore, by my birthright, that I would contaminate the blood which passes through all. Killing the girl did not clear the path. But it reminded me of the power I once held. And, with that, the Four would have to take me back. Or regret not doing so.”

The shriek that erupted from the doorway made the assailant jump just as much as it did Leona. Then, in that exact moment, she felt the arrow tip plunge into her chest. The world warped in strange and odd curves and angles. Into patterns and colours of crimson that started her heart down a racing path. Footsteps that were neither of theirs approached as she crashed to the ground and her world was suffocated in darkness.

~ ~ ~

Hearing that Leona had been admitted into hospital sent the most sickening feeling through Ellie. Her phone rang not too soon before one in the morning and she had answered with a yawn and a stretch. The call made her sit up immediately. Awoken in fear and kept awake with the same flare.  Ellie had to explain to Tom, who had been asleep, that she would not be there when he woke up in the following hours. Ellie knew that her hair was falling from place as she jumped into her car. Still awkwardly pulling shoes on and cleaning her face with a cloth, no amount of preparation could get her ready for the interview she was headed to. 

Leona's mother, Stephanie, sat in an interview room with blood covering her fingerprints. A shake in every inch of her. Every word was riddled with a fearful stutter and every sentence was strung together with the finest material. Easy to break, hard to keep a hold of.  Alec and Fell had arrived at the same time with expressions that closely mirrored that of the other. The weight of responsibility on the triad wasn't small. 

None of them wanted to hear the story that Stephanie spoke in broken sentences. It was hard to listen to how Stephanie had come home to an open door. Latch broken, door squeaking on its hinges, inviting in the most threatening way. That she had come home to hear a shuffle upstairs and, once arriving there, seeing her daughter with an arrow tip to her chest. That when she made a move to help and her scream came out involuntarily, that Leona's had been stabbed. 

In that interview room, as the questions were asked with aching hearts, Leona's blood dripped through fingertips to lay on the bench top. 

~ ~ ~

The interview had been heavy for Fell. Of course within the line of work, it was only to be expected. Fell was used to the pathology side of things. Bodies couldn’t cry or wail about the things that had happened. Scream or struggle with the flawed human nature complexities that come along with it.

“Dr. Fell?” He had jumped at the voice. Calm and familiar but enough to scare him. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”   
“Absolutely no need to be sorry, dear.” He turned to see Paul. Grasping a coffee in one hand, the other holding his hair from his eyes.   
“Just, wondered if you were alright?”    
Fell didn’t  _ know _ the answer to that question. At least, not an honest answer. He had left the station as soon as the interview ended. Needed space and time to breathe. 

As usual, he found himself by his favourite seat overlooking the shore. It was hard to ignore the unnatural splashing. That which is caused by human feet or the motors of boats. Fell had escaped to his bench by the coast where he prefered to listen to the natural lapping of waves. Gentle in their rhythm. On occasion times felt like armageddon. Terrible and tragic. A lingering pessimism much like a low cloud. All consuming and hard to see through. Fell found peace in knowing that despite all of the bad; that the ocean would continue to beat rhythmically with its tide regardless. In the same way that the Moon would continue to orbit the Earth. The same way that Alec seemed to have an inexplicable way of calming Fell. 

Some patterns were ingrained into the very threading of the universe. Fell believed, hoped, that Alec was a part of that. After all their tether, he felt, was strengthening.

~ ~ ~

"Why her?" 

There had been a rush to the hospital in the single moment that the hospital had called and reported Leona was awake. Her health was important but the details of her attacker were important as well. Fell had insisted that Paul join them. Since their revelation of Pestilence, Fell could use all the help available to him. There had been an awkward exchange between him and Alec. but, for the importance of the case, they came to a temporary truce as they entered the hospital. Paul had asked the question, _why her_, as they approached. And why Adam who had somehow found his way to Leona’s door. Neither had answers  


"What's her condition?" Adam asked deadpan. He was after honesty and nothing less. Ellie watched the nurse wince slightly.    
"We aren't entirely sure…" the nurse tried to be nice about it. Alec cleared his throat and gave her a glare that told her to be honest. Even if Adam, in all his youth, seemed too innocent to take such information with any sort of ease. "Your friend is showing signs of a blood borne virus, we haven't pinpointed exactly which one yet. It's a confusing case, one we haven’t seen before. Irregular heart rate is the most prominent concern at this point of time… the forensics analysis of the arrowhead will help us, we hope, in treatment. She’s stable enough for now, I think she needs company, if you want to go in.”

So they did. Not knowing exactly what to expect on the other side of the door. Ellie shuddered as her mind pictures the same scene they had found Ebby in. Blood drained and plastered on walls. Notes of ill intent. Knelt, praying, dead. She shook her head clear, put on the most comforting expression she could, and followed Fell and Alec's lead. 

“Why…  _ why me? _ ” Leona was clear in her tone that she didn't  _ want _ to know why. Sometimes things were easier as is. Further explanation could hurt more than the surface level. 

Slowly taking seats around her bed, they watched her. Barely able to move much and eyes glazed over, she looked ghastly.   
"You might know something about the person who murdered Ebby…" Ellie tried to put it in the least scary way that she possibly could. "Is there anything you haven't told us?"   
"No.  _ Nothing _ . I swear I've not lied or hid anything or---”   
“No, no, Leona…” Fell’s smile made her calm in an instant, “we don’t mean hide, we mean, any details you may have overlooked?”

She bit down on her trembling lip, weak in every motion.   
“He mentioned… uhh…”   
“In your own time, Leona.” Ellie placed a delicate hand on her knee.    
“He mentioned a whole bunch of… just,  _ stuff _ … something about rocks, or blocks, his path was blocked? I…”   
“Lamentations 3 9…” Paul was staring at the ground when he said them. Fell blinked with a twitch of realisation, his mind evaluating what Paul had said. Locking eyes, everything clicked at once.   
“Of course. 3 9…  _ She has barred my ways with cut stones; she has made my paths crooked. _ ” Fell was breathless in his recall of it. “Anything else?”   
“No… just that I recognised his voice. Croaky voice, sounded sick. Can’t remember where from, though.”

“Wait, wait, is there anyone who has  _ asked _ you about the investigation?”   
“Besides the Them, my parents, no one. Spoke to a guy about giving a uhhh, something I found into the police? But, I didn’t think that was connected?” That made them lean in.   
“Who, what did you find?”   
“Uh…” she shuffled awkwardly, “please don’t tell my parents but I was out by the ocean one night. Passed out. Woke up to this guy standing over me, he was nice, he helped me. We saw this bow thing in the water? And I asked him to hand it over to the police…  _ oh, oh,  _ it was that same voice!”    
Ellie’s turn to look at Fell and Alec almost gave her whiplash,   
“We were told there was no one there when they arrived. Found it on the ground. This man, what did he look like?”

Leona went into as much detail as her weary state could allow her. It was no easy effort but, thankfully, her information was specific.    
“Alright… Thank you Leona. Rest now, please.” Alec pressed his lips together, eyes trailing the machinery as if he was testing it for its worth. Fell took her hand once more. Softly, delicately, as if it would fracture in his grasp.    
“Your parents will be here soon. And remember, if you panic… hand on your stomach, breathe in for five seconds, hold for five, breathe out for five…” Leona’s eyes brightened slightly as he spoke, “you’re safe now.”

~ ~ ~

It was impressive the information Adam could acquire when he asked nicely. And by ask nicely he meant; follow the officers from the hospital, sneak his way into the police station and eavesdrop into a room he had a feeling was the one he was after. It had been. Murmurs about blood reports, about Leona, about her room which had since been deemed a crime scene. That had all led to where he went after that.

Adam didn't know  _ exactly  _ why he was standing in the middle of the road.  _ Well _ , he did. Somewhat. He had a  _ feeling _ . Right place, right time, right people mirroring his stance on the other streets around the block. Pepper stood on the street across from him. Brian and Wensleydale the same, just the next street over. No street left unguarded. They always followed Adam to the exact. He felt honoured to have friends so loyal. They hadn’t questioned him even once about the importance of being on guard. But it was  _ his  _ street that was important. It was his street, Aperito Road, that was important. Because it was his street that the pale motorbike came rumbling down.

Adam stood with one leg on the ground and the other draped over his bike with a basket in need for a quick escape. Hands gripping the handles with nervously twitching fingers. When the motor bike came grumbling to a near stop, Adam smiled. 

"Hello there.” Adam cocked his head and smiled with all the smugness that came with being  _ right _ .   
“You are in my way.”   
“You are in the town’s way.” Adam replied with a smug tone,   
“Pardon?”   
“We want to feel safe, to mourn, you won’t let us do that. You are, oh what’s the term…  _ blocking our path with stones? _ ” That shut the man up, “I felt your presence in this town, ya know? Pestilence, isn’t it?” Adam told him, kicking at the uneven gravel by his feet. Stuffing his hands in his jacket pocket, he squinted up at the man who opposed him.   
“Excuse me?” That voice sounded like disease. In every sense of the word.    
“This place is mine. From the coast-side Eden to the cliffs.” Adam didn’t know the names of roads or suburbs. He knew them for what they were, not for their names. Adam knew the expenses of overgrowing moss up building foundations. The stray cats that hid in dark alleys. The soot and ash that compounded in the fireplaces of old buildings. The smiles that answered knocks at doors. The apples which were the ripest of the picking. 

But the man before him, Pestilence, knew only of shriveling those fruits. Moulding and shaping into nothing more than cores and skins. Adam couldn’t have that. He was a forgiving boy. But not after Ebby, not after Leona. Some things were unforgivable.   
“Little boy you know  _ nothing _ .” He hissed at Adam, dismounting the pale coloured bike.    
“Well, I know a  _ few _ things. I know that the Kraken is real. I know that lemon sherberts are  _ great _ for giving you energy. I know that the number two pencil is actually the number one most popular. I know that cured ham was never  _ actually _ sick. And! I know that you are  _ not  _ welcome here.”

A small laugh came from the man but it was muffled through his helmet. With a click and a twist, it came off. Adam got to see his face. Pestilence was young but he didn’t have the youth of it. His skin was sickly and his mouth crooked. Split in little lines of dried blood. A pointed nose reddened with illness and a eyes glazed in grey. Adam recognised him immediately. 

“Mr. Tennyson?” Adam looked past Pestilence to his friends, who had crowded and cornered the horseman in the alley, to Pepper who took a step back in shock. Brian with clenched fists and Wensleydale clenching his teeth.    
“Is it?!” Brian exclaimed with shock, “as in, our  _ art  _ teacher..?”   
“Tennyson is who we thought he was…” Adam fought the urge to yell, “but he is Pestilence. He killed our friend. Dog knows, he can smell the blood on his hands.” On cue, Dog growled and shredded at the gravel. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

As Pestilence turned to look at the three behind him, Adam caught a glimpse of what had to be a holster. Arrows tipped with a strange black substance rattled in it. Adam had a feeling, an instinct, that none of those arrows 

“Let me guess, you’ve not been the same since you tried to kill our friend, Leona?” Adam smirked, “you’ve felt weak, haven’t you?”   
Pestilence narrowed his eyes. The grey darkened in the most threatening way.   
“You know not---”   
“Oh but I do, Erik. See, I worked it out. I did the maths. Four horsemen, four of us. You were an extra for the Horsemen. A lost piece of the puzzle. What you  _ don’t  _ know is that we had an extra too. You may be Pestilence. But we have Leona. She’s our Panacea.”

The mention of that single name made him take a step back, stumbling on the heel of his boot. There was a buckle in his knees, he was weakening before their very eyes. He tried to make a sudden break for the gap between them but Dog had his ankle clenched between teeth in a second.

“Panacea.” Pepper said with a sudden surge of confidence, watching the man struggle to hobble away, only to fall in a weakening state, “you know what that means?    
“ _ Universal remedy _ .” Wensleydale chimed in.   
“A cure for anything.” Brian followed the lead.   
“When you tried to kill her, it was  _ actually _ her that got you. You might have stabbed her, but you got caught in it, didn’t you? I did some listening, it wasn’t just Leona’s blood at the scene. But yours too. And, well, you aren’t immune to your own weapons.” Adam was getting riled up but the looks from his friends made his heart steady. This was all how things were meant to be, since the intrusion of Pestilence. “In the chaos of it all, you slipped and cut yourself, right? I can see the blood patch on your waist, pale colours really  _ aren’t _ the best for being sneaky. Give yourself up to the police. They will save your flesh, even if you were meant to destroy every acre of it.”   
“After all…” Brian took a breath,   
“Two wrongs…” Wensleydale added,   
“Don’t make a right.” Pepper finished.

The blaring of police sirens echoed the streets as they pulled into the alley with screeching tyres. Guns raised the second that they got out of the car.    
“I always wondered just  _ why _ you were so interested in the ocean.” Adam thought aloud, “it’s not the tropical fish, is it? It’s the ten billion viruses that are hidden below the surface…”

Erik, Pestilence, whatever it was that he was, didn’t have the strength to fight the police who were handcuffing him. Alec, Fell and Ellie watched from the open end of the street.   
“How did you figure it out?” Alec asked, Ellie was glad his tone wasn’t resentful. After all, he had been skeptical to even take Adam’s call.   
“Had a feeling he would drive off to find the other Horsemen.” He smiled, not knowing the deed he had done. After talking to Leona in the hospital, they had been quick to find witness recall of the man who gave the bow over. That matched Erik. Adam had made the call, said he knew where Pestilence would be. Sure enough, the four of them stared down at him. With a monotone delivery, Adam whispered.

“I’d say that you make me sick... but that would mean you win.”

~ ~ ~

The hospital’s corridors were stark white and smelled distinctly of sanitizer. Almost harshly so. Outside there was an echo of squeaking tyres on the road, pedestrians wandered completely unaware of the second murder that had nearly occured. With thanks and an awkward shuffle in the small hospital hallway, the group managed to edge their way into the room. It was crystal clean and machinery beeped over the distant noise of traffic. Peaceful, somewhat, with the rain clacking at the window panes. Leona looked weak. The skin around her eyes seemed to be sinking into her skull with a sickly hue to it. The smile on her face was blooming as soon as she noticed the slow shuffle of people into the room.

Alec and Fell stood to the back of the group. Where they could make room for those closest to Leona. Her parents Geoff and Stephanie. Beth, the Them. Chloe and Daisy. In weak smiles and exhausted attempts at enthusiasm, Leona looked upon those around her with an adoration that made Fell smile to himself. Alec too. Those smiles existed in spite of the wound, in spite of her sickness, in spite of all the bad.

Adam had knelt by Leona’s bed and, with the brightest smile told her,   
“We got him. Well, truly, Dog got him. He likes you, is quite protective in fact.”  
“You forgetting the rest of us?” Pepper scoffed,  
“Yeah someone had to give the one liners!” Brian reminded him. Leona let out a weak laugh before her smile turned bittersweet once more,  
“You mean it? He’s gone?”  
Adam beamed. “Pinky promise. We got him.” 

Alec and Fell stood to the back of the group. Where they could link hands. With slightly hesitant, oh-so-awkward and unsure fingers. The intertwine was uncoordinated and slightly shaky. But once joined among the masses of their own jackets' fabric, they settled. Fell's thumb sweeping over Alec's skin smoothly.    
"You told me so." Alec huffed. From in front of him, Daisy took a moment to shuffle closer to Leona.    
"Pardon?" Fell asked as he seemingly jumped back into reality.    
"You told me so. Pestilence wouldn't kill again. I hate ' _ I told you so _ 's. But you did."

Fell's smile glimmered brighter then the hospital lights. Alec was avoiding eye contact, not pulling his hand away or scoffing. But taking a shaky breath and admitting, finally. To colleagues, to his friends and to Fell especially,   
"You know… I dinnae be able to have done it without ye." Alec pressed together an awkward smile. He had more he wanted to say but it didn't come out properly. "I just… uhhhh so, I mean. We, well we, yeah. We asked for an expert from elsewhere and we got you…"   
"Hardy, my dear, just say what you mean."    
Alec took a sharp breath, but held it enough to find some spark of confidence.   
"Ngk, yeah I just… you might have been an expert from elsewhere but… I  _ think _ . For the department, ya know… you should  _ not  _ be from elsewhere."   
"Alec, dear. You’re not making much sens---"

"Stay...  _ please _ ."

Those words had been spoken with crystal clarity. A sudden and unexpected honesty.   
"Stay here. With the department. With…  _ with me _ ," Alec twitched a tad before he took Fell's other hand, "help me keep Broadchurch's cemeteries licenced.”   
Fell smiled that smile he had given Alec on his first day. The one Alec had resented. Now, it felt like home. Fell struggled to contain his true glee at the offer and so he turned to conversation by the bed. But not without the whisper,   
“I might just.” and he tightened his grip on Alec’s hand.

Adam had been right, they would bring the storm. Ebby had been a thunderclap in that storm. Those she left behind would carry on her memory. But the rain on the window stilled. Droplets turned to mist turned to silence. The sun breached the clouds for the first time in weeks. 

Finally, Alec took a calm breath and watched the sun rays shine, what had to be a good omen, onto Broadchurch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man... this has been a *journey*.  
Please, let me know if you want a follow up story!   
Writers block has been a pain in the ass, thankfully I have a few set ups for any future follow up story (e.g. the wedding).  
Thanks to everyone for reading! Means so much! Especially those who give feedback- helps more then you realise!  
My insta is @ImmortalError if you want :)


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